Perfect Harmony
by Kaname1021
Summary: A Slytherin in cunning. A Gryffindor is brave. They were pitted against each other since their first year, but in secret they worked in perfect harmony. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1: Letters

**~Perfect Harmony~**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or else I would make this a book instead of posting it here to relish in my fantasies.

This is my first fanfiction on here, so please send me your thoughts!

**~Letters~**

A family of three sat around the dining table, staring at the letter that lay on the middle in silence, neither knowing what to make of its contents. The mother looked at the father, and the father looked at the daughter. The daughter kept her eyes glued to the parchment, as if at any moment it were going to sprout wings and fly away. After what she'd been witnessing lately, it wouldn't have been a surprise if the letter had done just that. After about another five minutes of awkward, silent glances, Hermione Granger looked up at her parents and, without hesitation, spoke.

"This has to explain everything." Before either parent could open their mouth to argue reason with their 11-year-old daughter, she continued her analysis. "I believe this letter, because nothing else has been able to explain why such strange things have been happening around me. Think about it!" she exclaimed, causing them to jump slightly at her enthusiasm. "When I walk past a dust bin down the street, it flips up and falls over all on its own. That isn't just wind knocking it aside; otherwise I would also have been knocked around a bit by the strength of it. And how else do you explain _Le Petit Prince_ burning right in my hands when all I was doing was _reading _it? And I think it's safe to say that we all agree nothing else can explain how I managed to levitate my cup of water all the way from the parlor in here without moving. This letter has to explain it all!" With a twinkle in her eye and excitement in her voice, she leaned forward and said in a hushed, suspenseful tone: "It's _magic!" _

It was unthinkable. Mr. and Mrs. Granger have never seen Hermione so excited in her life to have solved such a predicament. Hermione has always been enthusiastic about a new book, or advancing in her classes, or reading about something new and interesting on the internet. She's always loved watching crime shows, predicting everything that would happen and who was actually guilty and who wasn't. This, though? Her parents couldn't believe their little girl was becoming so overjoyed by the idea of _magic; _something that up until now they were sure was pure fiction. Hermione Granger, their daughter, had only ever been interested in logic. Now she was speaking of _magic?_ "Hermione, sweetie…you can't possibly—"

Mr. Granger cut off the mother. "Sweetheart, I think Hermione truly believes that what this letter from…"Squinting, he read, "'Hogwarts' says, and I'm inclined to as well." Before his wife could throw a fit, he began to reason with her quickly so as to make sure she heard his side. "Nothing else has been able to explain why Hermione can do things other people can't. And don't you remember telling me about your cousin, Eliza?" When both Hermione and her mother furrowed their eyebrows in confusion, he continued. "You told me that when she was around 11 years old, her parents had sent her off to school, but they wouldn't tell anyone what the name was. She would always come around and talk about strange things to her parents when she thought you weren't around. Isn't that what you told me?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Well, I overheard her and my uncle speaking, and they both mentioned something that sounded quite similar to this Hogwarts place, speaking of witches and wizards." Now he had their full attention. "I made myself known, but they seemed to hush. They merely told me that they were talking about a bed time story their parents used to tell them. However, they also seemed to be smiling. I'm thinking that perhaps they picked up on Hermione's…well…situation I suppose you would say. I was thinking of calling on them to tell us more of this Hogwarts. What do you think?"

Mrs. Granger seemed very skeptical at first, but then Hermione spoke. "Actually, Mum and Dad…Eliza actually told me about it." Now they both turned to her in shock. Hermione scratched the back of her head, quite aware of the accusing glances of her parents on her now as she sat in the limelight. "Um…well, it was only last night, but she came up to speak with me while you two were still at work. She told me that you two would be home late and so she had come to keep me company. And then she started to tell me about a school for witchcraft and wizardry called Hogwarts. There's a wonderful headmaster there named Albus Dumbledore, and the school is actually a castle. I showed her that I could move things without touching them, and then she told me I would probably be getting a letter soon. When I asked her how she knew so much, she told me that she had gone there and she actually showed me a bit of magic by fixing the bathroom light."

Her mother looked bewildered, but her father merely rubbed his chin and nodded. "I see. So that's how that stupid light began to work. Did she say anything else on the matter?"

Hermione shook her head and replied, "No. She told me that once I got my letter with all the things I would need for the school year, she would take me to a place called Diagon Alley to buy everything. She also said that she would buy me a few early birthday presents that would help put me ahead of my classes and explain more history on magic and the school. Don't you think this is all quite fascinating?" she suddenly beamed, stunning both her parents into speechlessness. "I'm going to go call Eliza and tell her all about it! I'll be in my room if either of you need me, alright?" They both nodded, untrusting of their voices at the moment, watching their little girl bounce up the staircase as happily as could be. They glanced at each other, down at the letter, at the stairs, and back at each other. Without a word, they both knew what the other was thinking: _What have we gotten ourselves into?_

"Draco, your letter's just arrived," Narcissa Malfoy called from her little table out in the garden. A platinum blonde-haired boy of around 11 years of age came striding from the dining hall of the Manor, a sleepy gaze in his eye. As he neared the beautiful middle-aged woman, she smiled at him. "Sweetie, it's nearly noon. You really should be up and about much earlier, darling. After all, school will be starting soon for you." When the boy had failed to reply, Narcissa sighed. "If you don't start waking up at least by 9:30 every morning, I'll have to start making you go to sleep at a certain time to get you prepared, you know."

That elicited a response from the tired child. "Mum, I'm not a baby. I don't need a stupid bed time," he growled. It was quite evident, however, that Draco Malfoy was not a morning person. Finally, after rubbing the sleep from his droopy eyes, he noticed the letter on the crystal surface of his mother's lovely table. "Oh, Mum. Has my letter come in?" She smiled then, and handed it to him. He eagerly wanted to rip into it and read and reread his letter a thousand times over, but his father had taught him not to be so rash no matter how much you longed to. And so, he gingerly undid the seal and slipped the parchment from its holder. As careful as he was, his mother could still see the eagerness in his eyes, and she was perfectly okay with it. She was the only one who ever got to see Draco Malfoy in such a state of emotion. A Malfoy man was always taught to hide his feelings, no matter how strong they were, from the time they are young. Narcissa was intent on making sure her only son would not turn out as heartless as his father had turned out to be, and so she allowed Draco to express his feelings to her whenever he felt the need to.

She smiled as she watched her son read through his acceptance letter, and then through the shopping list with such vivid excitement. He may be a young boy, but he had a bright mind; an eager mind ready to take in as much as it could, and being able to finally explore his full potential at school and harness magic like he'd never done before gave him such a rush as nothing ever had before. He was ready to start as soon as possible, slightly put off that he still had another two months until September 1. "Mum, when are we going to Diagon Alley to buy my things?"

Narcissa sighed now. The poor boy wouldn't be able to contain himself around his father if he continued to jump around like this. "How about next week, sweetheart? Your father should be free sometime then and we can all go up there to buy your things. Does that sound alright?" Draco Malfoy nodded his head, slightly disappointed that they weren't going right this moment, but he understood what his mother was trying to do. She was trying to give him time to calm down before Lucius Malfoy scolded him on his disapproving behavior. Narcissa saw the understanding in her son's eyes and pursed her lips. "Draco, darling," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked into his mother's eyes, giving her his full attention. "I understand. I was just like you when I was your age, about to be sent off to my first year of Hogwarts. I was excited. I was beyond thrilled, really. And I understand your need to express that. But you are a Malfoy, and the heir to the Malfoy legacy at that. This means you will be a leader. A leader must learn how to keep his emotions in check. A leader must not show too much hope so prematurely. It may cause a horrible disappointment to those you end up leading."

Draco Malfoy stood tall and nodded at this wonderfully kind woman in front of him, showing her that he was capable of leading successfully. He could do whatever was asked of him for the sake of those who needed him. He was determined to do his very best if it meant making his mother proud of him. She was the one thing in his life that he was willing to do anything for. He would live for her, and he would die for her. At such a young age, he still knew that she was worth fighting for. They were always in sync, in perfect harmony.


	2. Chapter 2: Diagon Alley

**~Perfect Harmony~**

Disclaimer: As you all you should know, I do not own Harry Potter or anything that has to do with it. This is all purely fan-made. After all, if I were the author, I'd just publish it and make it a reality instead of putting it on here.

On with the story!

**~Diagon Alley~**

"Eliza, how are you?" Mrs. Granger greeted her cousin with a warm smile and embrace before leading her around into the parlor. "Would you like anything to drink? Water? Tea? I could whip something up quickly before…well…before we talk."

Eliza rolled her eyes at her elder cousin and replied, "If it will calm your nerves, then I suggest you brew some for yourself. As for me, I would like to see Hermione as soon as possible." No sooner had the words left her mouth than Hermione had come bounding down the stairs into Eliza's arms. "Ah, there you are, my dear! How _have_ you been?"

Hermione didn't miss a beat. "I've been great, Eliza! Although, I have always wondered: why is your name Eliza when Mum's name is Elizabeth?" Eliza blinked at the young girl, wondering where that had come from all of a sudden. And yet, the thought went in and out of her mind in a flash as little Hermione got back on topic. "Anyway, Eliza. I would love it if you would please explain so much more about this new magical world to my parents and I!" Elizabeth Granger could only stare at her daughter, once more at a loss for words, as her husband walked into the room with a cup of coffee.

"Eliza," he said. "So good to see you again. How have you been?"

"I've been wonderful, Robert. How about you?"

Robert Granger laughed then at her bubbliness. "I won't lie. I've been a bit confused with this whole magic ordeal. However, I am open minded and have been looking forward to your visit for quite some time. Now, why don't we sit and get to it before poor Lizzie has a fit of impatience." Hermione and Eliza turned to see a bemused and edgy Elizabeth Granger.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Lizzie," Eliza exhaled. "Will you always be this overwhelmed by change? I suppose we better get to it then as you said, Robert." Everyone sat down, Hermione's eyes bright with curiosity as she leaned forward on the edge of her seat on the couch across from her witch cousin. Eliza took a breath, and then looked at the three of them. "Honestly, there's not much to explain. Your daughter has inherited one of our great ancestor's genes that allows her to use magic. Because she's been in the muggle world since she was born, her magic was dormant until her 11th birthday when it awoke and weird things started to happen. You best be happy she's not an angry child, or this whole house would have possibly burned down."

"Muggle?" said Hermione, quite sure she's never come across such a word before. "Eliza, what exactly does muggle mean?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear," Eliza gasp, realizing she'd used vocabulary they weren't used to. "A muggle is someone who cannot use magic like we can. So, your parents are muggles. Your friends from school are most likely all muggles. Most of your teachers are muggles. Many witches and wizards try to keep to themselves so as not to alarm any muggles and expose them to the magical world."

"Eliza, where is this Diagon Alley that Hermione spoke of?" Robert asked, changing topic. He may be open-minded, but he still didn't appreciate having a label on himself. "She told Lizzie and myself that you were going to take her to Diagon Alley to collect her school supplies. We assume it's some sort of magic shopping center. After all, I'm sure there is no other place in London that sells things such as pewter cauldrons or books such as Grade One Standard Book of Spells." They all had a good laugh at that one. Finally, tension seemed to be dissipating in the room.

Standing, Eliza extended her hand to Hermione, who took it and stood as well. Then she turned to beam at her parents. Eliza pulled Hermione around the table to her side and looked at them as well. "How about I take you there myself?" Elizabeth and Robert couldn't hide their curiosity any longer, and followed without another word.

Draco Malfoy stepped out of his shower into his lush, emerald green bedroom. He'd always been subjected to nothing but the best, thanks to his family name. Everyone respected the name Malfoy, whether out of admiration or fear, Draco was never quite sure. After all, his father had always been very cold and intimidating. He wish he'd been able to say that his father was very warm and kind when it was just he and Mum around, but that would be a lie. He exuded power and held everyone at arm's length, outside and inside his own home. It was no wonder Draco was always more than ready to be at his mother's side. She allowed him a freedom no one else would give him.

"Young Master, your father bids me to tell you he is growing impatient and would like for you to please hurry down as soon as you are ready." The boy turned to see his favorite house elf, Dobby, bowing his head so low that his long pointed nose scraped the floor.

"Oh, fine," Draco huffed, hurriedly throwing on his white button up shirt and black pants. Dobby bowed once more and disappeared to finish serving breakfast. Draco had always felt bad for Dobby the house elf. His father had ordered Dobby to punish himself any time he even thought about breaking the rules, and Draco had witnessed Dobby put himself through horrid punishments such as ironing his hands until they were nothing but boiling blisters, or thrashing his head in the oven over and over again. Draco wished desperately to order Dobby to stop, but Dobby was a house elf and a house elf could never disobey their master's orders no matter how they would like to. Draco had always thought of just setting Dobby free, but he hadn't the courage to face his father's wrath. That, and he knew Dobby would leave and Draco didn't want that. He would miss the elf, and so he sat idly by and watched the poor elf hurt himself over and over.

Putting the depressing thoughts from his mind, he slicked his hair back to keep each and every single blonde lock in perfect place. Once he was satisfied, he quickly made his way downstairs to the dining hall, taking his seat across from his mother. As Dobby brought out his breakfast, Draco took a moment to look from his mother to his father, both with their heads down in silence. It was always like this, so cold and silent. He couldn't wait to get away in Diagon Alley, and let his excitement get him through this morning. He ate his eggs and bacon in silence, thinking of everything he wanted to do once he got to Diagon Alley. He hadn't actually been there in awhile. Over the years, they would always floo to Knockturn Alley and he would only catch a glimpse of the warm light of Diagon Alley from the cold and dreary path he would always walk.

"Draco," Lucius spoke, wiping his mouth gingerly with his napkin. Draco and his mother followed suit, and turned to give the head of the family their fullest attention. "When we go there today, you will be on your best behavior. I expect you to get what you need, without dawdling on foolish things. I will be taking care of some business whilst there, and I am sure your mother will be quite busy getting things as well. You are old enough to be on your own for a bit, so do not make a fool of yourself. Do not waste your time. However," he added. "If there should be someone you think may prove…useful to befriend, I suggest you do so. Oh, and also." Now he looked his son straight in the eye and nearly spat. "Do not associate yourself with _mudbloods._"

Now Draco sneered, and nodded. "I wouldn't even if I could, father." Mudbloods. How disgusting. It was the one thing he and his father agreed on, perhaps because it had been beat into him since before he could remember, but they were foul beings. Who would ever want to befriend someone with dirty blood?

His father smirked, then. "You truly are my son. Now let's hurry. We have a busy day ahead of us, don't we?" They all stood together and followed Lucius Malfoy to the fireplace and one by one, they flooed their way to Diagon Alley.

"What is this place?" Robert wondered aloud. They were sitting in a rather dingy restaurant, watching as folk made their way in and out. A man sat at a table near them, twirling his coffee but it didn't look as though he was actually touching his spoon as he read his newspaper.

Eliza came over and sat down next to Hermione, who had been waiting patiently across from her parents as she watched the man. "This is the Leaky Cauldron," she beamed as though it was the most fanciful place she'd ever thought to bring them. Indeed, the name was very fitting. "Everyone comes here before and after their trip to Diagon Alley. It's not very classy, but it's casual. Everyone comes here to bond. Now, are you ready?"

Hermione jumped up in her excitement, but her parents stood at a much slower pace. "Eliza, what should we be expecting?"

Eliza bore a thoughtful look for just a moment before smiling at them and answering, "The unexpected." And with that, she started towards the back door, the others following in tow. They walked past the bar counter, and Hermione couldn't help but notice a very strange man with a purple turban upon his head. He seemed quite nervous but at the same time…she felt something sinister about him. She shook off the weird feeling, however, as she passed through the back door to a brick wall.

"It's…a dead end?" she tilted her head in confusion. "This is quite unexpected, I must say."

Eliza couldn't help but bark out a laugh. "Oh, darling! That's the beauty of magic. Not everything is what it appears to be." She whipped out what appeared to be a very pretty, polished stick and held it in front of Hermione. Hermione knew what it had to be instantly. "This…is a wand. Now watch, because this is how you will be granted access to the wonderful world of magic." Straightening up, she turned to the brick wall and began to tap the stones in a circular pattern. Hermione and her parents just watched in awe as the dead end began to reform itself into a bright passageway. In another minute, they were looking at a brightly lit golden path filled with so many shops full of things whizzing by. "Welcome…to Diagon Alley!"

As soon as she'd spoken, Hermione's smile widened until she was sure she resembled the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. She wanted desperately to run down the path and into every single shop there was to see, and Eliza could see right through her. And so, Eliza put a hand on her shoulders and led her down the road, beckoning warily to Elizabeth and Robert, whose shocked faces made them look like cod fish. It was blatantly obvious that they were muggles. This wouldn't have posed much of a problem, except that Eliza had spoken to the bar tender at the Leaky Cauldron. Apparently, certain pure blood families had decided to choose this day as well to bring their little brats for their school supplies. Eliza didn't want them to target Hermione for being muggleborn, and so she pulled them along down to Gringotts.

Hermione was in awe, once again. The big white building was the largest in the entire Alley, with gargoyles and giant columns. "Before we enter, I need to make one thing perfectly clear with you three," Eliza warned, turning to look them all in the eye. "Gringotts is the most protected place in Diagon Alley. One wrong move and the goblins will throw you out on the spot. So be on your best behavior."

"G-goblins?" Elizabeth stuttered, suddenly very frightened. She'd heard stories of goblins before, and didn't like the thought of having to actually encounter one in real life.

Eliza smiled soothingly, for once understanding her cousin's fear. "Don't worry. I'll make sure we're in and out before you can say 'quidditch'."

"Quidditch?" Hermione repeated in curiosity, but Eliza had already started into the giant bank. Hermione hoped the goblins were friendlier than she had made them out to be.

Her hopes couldn't have been dashed so quickly. They weren't friendlier than Eliza had said. They were worse. It seemed all of them, including Eliza, couldn't have been any happier to get away and into the bright and busy streets of Diagon Alley. "If I never have to go back in there, I won't be sad one bit!" Hermione exclaimed.

Eliza and her parents nodded in agreement. "I promise, that will be the worst part of your trip, so let us be thankful it's over. Now, shall I show you the many wonders of the wizarding world?" Hermione nodded and linked arms with her elder cousin, and together they glided down the steps into more pleasant shops. Robert and Elizabeth Granger stared at the pair before them in admiration and wariness, then proceeded to follow as they had been since they left the house this morning.

"This is where we leave you, Draco." Lucius Malfoy stood in front of his son, staring up at the sign that read 'Madam Malkin's' before looking back down at Draco. "You're list of supplies are in your pocket?" Draco nodded. "Good. We hope you find what you need. Get what you need, and then perhaps you can treat yourself to a few goods. But," he paused, making sure he had Draco's full attention. "If the list says you are not allowed anything, you will not get it. Do you understand me? It would be a nuisance to have the school call me whilst I was at work. You realize it would be an embarrassment to the family name, yes?" Once again, Draco nodded his understanding. "Good. Then I leave you two to your shopping. We will meet again at 6 right here. Do not be late." And then he was gone.

Draco wished to let down his façade, but they were in a public place and it was his father's will to keep up appearances as well as possible. His mother, however, flashed him a reassuring smile and suddenly he felt so much better. "Good luck, Draco," she told him. "I'll be just next door looking at some new book releases if you need me, alright?" He nodded and headed inside quickly to get fitted into his robes, thankful that his mother would be close by in case he really did need her for anything.

"Hogwarts, dear?" Madam Malkin called over to him. She was a short witch dressed in mauve. As Draco nodded, she called over a different witch to pin him up. "Milda will fit you, sweetheart. Follow her into the back of the shop, please." Draco did as he was told, walking back with Milda, who was a bit taller than Madam Malkin.

Draco Malfoy stood on top of a foot stool as Milda began to pin him, falling into his own thoughts until Madam Malkin's voice traveled back to him. "Hogwarts, dear?" she'd said, just as she'd said to him. "Got the lot here—another young man being fitted up just now, in fact." Draco watched as she made her way back to where he was, a scrawny boy with jet black messy hair and bright green eyes in tow. She stood the boy on the stool next to him, slipped a robe over his head, and began to pin the boy just as Milda was doing.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence. Finally, Draco couldn't take it anymore, so he decided to stir up polite conversation. "Hello. Hogwarts, too?"

The boy replied with a simple, "Yes." Nervous, much? Draco briefly wondered if the boy was some kind of antisocial brat, or perhaps he just wasn't used to talking to strangers.

For some reason, Draco felt the need to talk about his parents but he couldn't very well tell the boy what his father was up to. Before he knew it, he'd opened his mouth to speak again. "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands." For one, only the one needing the wand could really go and look at the wand, so why Draco had thought that up was beyond him. The boy didn't seem to catch it, so he went on. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." Why did he say that? There was no way anyone could bully Lucius Malfoy, and now Draco was a liar _and _he'd managed to make himself look like a spoiled brat. Eager to fix what he'd said, he asked, "Have you got your own broom?"

Again, the boy gave a simple answer. "No."

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No."

"I do." Now, he was actually excited to talk about Quidditch. He loved it. "Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree." _After all,_ he thought, _I am one good Chaser if I do say so myself._ "Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No."

Draco was growing very tired of this conversation, seeing as it wasn't much of one at all. Still, he continued to speak if only to diminish the silence that would fall if he were to stop. "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they? But I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have. Imagine being in Hufflepuff! I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" The boy hummed a small "Mmm" in agreement, and Draco nearly sighed in disappointment. Then he caught sight of a giant peering in to watch them, and burst out, "I say, look at that man!"

Instantly, the boy turned and smiled for the first time since being in Draco's presence. "That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," Draco frowned, remembering where he'd heard the name before. "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper." The tone of the boy had changed the moment Draco had said 'servant'.

Draco didn't like it. With a sneer, he said, "Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage—lives in a hut on school grounds and every now and then gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting his bed on fire."

The boy turned to him and coldly replied, "I think he's brilliant."

"Do you?" Draco was slightly taken aback that anyone would look up to an oaf like that. "Why is he with you. Where are your parents?"

"They're dead." Draco knew he should have been more empathetic, but seeing such an expressive look on the boy's face reminded him that he wasn't allowed such free reign over his own emotions.

"Oh, sorry. But they were our kind, weren't they?" The boy said something about them being wizard and witch. Draco wondered how daft this boy truly was. It was as though he'd been living under a rock his whole life until now, almost as though he were muggleborn. But he did say his parents were magical so that couldn't be it. "I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?" Before the boy could answer, and it didn't look like he really wanted to, Madam Malkin came and dismissed them. "Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," the blonde smirked, happy to have made the scrawny boy uncomfortable. It was what he did when things weren't going his way.

He made his way down to Ollivander's to get his wand, wanting to hurry and get his hands on his very own wand as soon as possible. This was exciting for him. He stepped into the darkened shop and no sooner had he done so than he heard someone call his name. "Mr. Draco Malfoy, how good to see you." Ollivander came from around the corner, holding a wand out to him. "How would you like to try this one?"

Draco wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do, so he just held it and stared at Ollivander. "What now?"

"Just…give it a flick." He did so, and ducked as wand cases began to fall and fly past him. Ollivander took it and handed him a different one. "Er…how about this one?" They went through this same routine about five more times before finally, Ollivander said, "One last try, Mr. Malfoy. I'm sure this one will be it for sure." Draco was getting very tired of the nonsense. This wasn't at all the exhilarating experience he'd been thinking of when he thought about finding his own wand. But as he held the new wand in his hand, a sort of warm electricity ran throughout his body and he found that he liked it. He just stared at the wand, then back up at Ollivander, who smiled. "10 inches exactly, that is rare," Ollivander nodded. "Hawthorn wood with unicorn hair making up the core. This wand is very pliant, Mr. Malfoy. I do hope you enjoy it, sir."

Draco paid for it without another word, twirling it in his fingers as he made his way back outside. As he did so, he bumped into someone and nearly dropped it. Angrily, he looked at her and scowled. "Watch where you're going, will you?" What he saw was bright, chocolate brown eyes and the scent of honey. She wasn't very pretty at first glance, but there was something about her bushy hair that fit her perfectly. Shaking her off, he rolled his eyes and continued on. One glance at her parents told him all he needed to know. She was a mudblood.

Hermione Granger stared at the platinum blonde boy that had walked into her, his wand in his hands. _ He must have been very excited for his wand as well. _ "Sorry, about that," she smiled up at her parents.

"I think we should allow Hermione to do this part on her own," Eliza smiled, obviously knowing something they didn't. Was getting one's wand for the first time really so special? Even Hermione was confused as to why she had to do this by herself. She didn't mind, though. "We'll be waiting in Flourish and Blotts, alrighty dear?" Hermione nodded slowly, letting her parents know she would be fine. After a little more persuasion, her parents went along with Eliza, leaving Hermione on her own.

Timidly, she stepped her way into the shop, wondering exactly where the owner was. "Ms. Hermione Granger," a voice called, making her jump. Out of the shadows came an old man with a pleasant smile.

"A-are you Mr. Ollivander?" she asked, suddenly very aware that she was alone.

His smile was so kind, however, that she found herself becoming much less afraid of him. "I am, indeed. I presume you are here for a wand, no doubt? I have just the thing! Come, come. Why don't you try this one out?"

Hermione took it gingerly, staring at it and twisting it in her hands. A zap of lightning came from the end, nearly blowing away the poor man's eye brows. She set it down and exclaimed her many apologies. Before he could say anything, however, her eyes fell upon a certain wand. "Er…excuse me, sir, but do you think I could try that one?" she pointed. It was a beautiful light caramel color, with pretty vines carved around it. It lay in an equally gorgeous box of velvet green.

Ollivander stared at her for a moment, quite shocked that she had picked one. No one has ever asked about a particular wand before, and yet she seemed drawn to it. On top of it all, that particular wand had rejected every person known to touch it. He, himself, had been unsuccessful in taming it. Something told him, however, that this wand had met its match. Gingerly plucking it from its case, he placed it in her hands. No sooner had he done so than a warm wind whipped itself through the air. He smelled strawberries and caramel apples, and there was a look of astonishment on the little girl's face that could melt anyone's heart and make them smile.

"10 ¾ inches, made of powerful vine wood. Its core is the heartstring of the most powerful dragon I have ever encountered." Ollivander looked into this girl's eyes and made sure she was listening to him. "Listen when I tell you something very important. Only a brilliant mind and a heart of gold could tame a wand such as this. You, young lady…you will do great things in the coming future. Work hard, and never give up. Have hope in the darkest of times."

Hermione Granger, young as she was, understood enough to know that this wand was very powerful. Instead of being intimidated by its power, however, she smiled and accepted the challenge. "I will, sir. I will."

As Hermione Granger made her way back to the outside into Diagon Alley, Ollivander became lost in his thoughts. He knew there would be one person to come into his shop who would be destined for great things. He didn't know there would be two. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, a half-blood, and Hermione Granger, a young muggleborn girl who managed to tame the most powerful wand in his shop…together, they could do great things. If they worked together, they would be working in perfect harmony.


	3. Chapter 3: Platform 9 34

**~Perfect Harmony~**

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. If I were, I would have shipped Dramione instead of backing out of it. Therefore, I do not own Harry Potter.

Enjoy!

**~Platform 9 ¾~**

Ever since her trip to Diagon Alley, Hermione has had her nose in her books with her wand permanently stuck in her grasp. She had probably read 'Hogwarts, A History' at least a dozen times and was currently reading it once more. She'd gone through her entire 'Standard Book of Spells Grade 1' by Bathilda Bagshot, practicing every single harmless spell at least five times. If she crossed one that seemed trickier than the others, she would practice more until it came just as easily. Eliza assured her that there was much more to learn, but she would be starting off easily. Hermione was very excited, however, when Eliza showed her a picture of the vast library she had access to. There was a restricted section that Hermione, of course, wouldn't be able to use, but Eliza said it was probably for the best.

Hermione was very interested to try potions, but refrained from trying any at home just in case something went wrong. She didn't want to ruin the carpet, and Eliza had refused to clean up her mess. After all, even if Hermione brewed them perfectly, there was still the matter of going and buying more ingredients. Some weren't too hard to get, but some were very expensive. To be honest, Hermione knew that she and her family had more than enough money for the ingredients, but she knew it was too much of a hassle to go back and forth to Diagon Alley whenever she wanted to. So she complied and instead decided to read through her potions book until she had memorized every single piece of information it had to offer. She was still astonished by everything she'd read and seen this summer, wonder filling her eyes every time she came across something she'd missed the time before.

There was something else on her mind, too. That boy with the pointed nose and white-blonde hair. He'd had fair, pale skin, and cool steel grey eyes. True, she supposed he was fairly good-looking, especially to those girls her age, but there was something about him that drew her mind back to him. She couldn't put her finger on it, though. It wasn't really his attitude. She was used to bullies. After all, skipping grades and graduating middle school at the age of ten caused many to look down at her, thinking she was a know-it-all. True, she loved being called on in class. She loved knowing the most in the class. She loved being the smartest girl in school. But she didn't want to be labeled as a know-it-all who thought she was better than everyone else. She wasn't. She's never thought she was better than anyone just because she was smart. She just loved to learn. It was weird, but it was true.

Putting those thoughts out of her mind, she closed her book and levitated it towards her trunk where the rest of her things had been placed. Tomorrow was September 1, the day school would start. She was eager to get a good night's sleep for the train ride there. It was a peculiar train number, though. Platform 9 ¾. She wasn't even sure there was such a thing, but Eliza assured her there was. There was just a special way to board it, allowing no one else to see it but those who knew the secret. It intrigued her, and she was looking forward to it quite a lot more than she probably should. Turning off the lamp on her bedside table, she closed her eyes and willed the night to turn to day soon.

"I will miss you dearly, sweetheart." Narcissa Malfoy stroked her son's hand as they sat at her crystal garden table, watching the sun go down behind the horizon. "I am so proud of you. I am happy that you will be going and learning to the best of your ability. You will grow there, and reach your full potential. But…"she sighed. "I will miss not being there to see you grow up. Yes, there will be Christmas and Easter, but it won't be the same as having you here at home with me. You won't have me, and…and I fear you will become just as cold as your father has." Turning to fully face her son, she looked him straight in the eye and said, "Promise me, Draco. Promise me you will stay just as sweet and kind as you are right now."

Draco stared at his mother, shocked by her sudden display of emotions. The truth was that he didn't want to promise something he wasn't sure he would be able to keep. He had a reputation to uphold as a Malfoy. He had to act the part, and by acting the part as often as he would have to, he was sure he would become lost in the role and lose himself. This had been something he'd had on his mind for months now, but he would not tell Narcissa that. She was the only one he could really trust. He couldn't go and break her heart like that. So he nodded and put his hand on hers. "I promise, Mother. I will try my best. Good night, Mother." He stood then and kissed her on the cheek before retiring to his room.

"Good night, darling. Sweet dreams." As she watched him walk back into the Manor, she truly hoped he would find someone he could trust whilst at Hogwarts, someone he could trust and be himself with as much as he was with her, or perhaps…perhaps even more.

Draco stripped down to his boxers, slipping easily into his emerald silk pajamas before turning off the lights and climbing into bed. His mind went to the conversation he'd had with his mother just now. He truly hoped he could fulfill her wishes and make her proud of him without becoming the man his father was.

As he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, he remembered her again. The mudblood. He'd stayed back to spy on her, curious about her. He'd never encountered a mudblood before, and he wanted to see exactly why so many people chose to associate themselves with filth. But when her wand had chosen her, he'd felt it. He'd never felt anything so incredible before, and the aroma that surrounded the entire room was so comforting he had allowed himself to get lost in it. When he'd heard what Ollivander had said to her, something in him became more curious than he should have been about the mudblood. Just who was she, and why had the wand chosen her of all people? What was so special about her that such a powerful wand wanted her to be its owner? It didn't make any sense. Lucius had always spoken of how weak and stupid mudbloods were, so why did Ollivander say such things to her? Why did he say she had a bright mind and that she had a pure heart? And why could he not get that look of astonishment and purity of hers off his mind?

"We're going to be late! Hurry up! Mum, Dad! Please, will you hurry up?"

Eliza came over to Hermione and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, dear. You set your clock back so you would wake up early. We still have half an hour to get there, and it only takes ten minutes to drive there in the first place. Why don't you drink this tea I made? It will help calm your nerves." Blinking in confusion, Hermione let her words sink in before sitting and taking the tea.

"You're right. I did do that, didn't I?" Hermione was beside herself, and had to giggle at her outburst. Robert and Elizabeth Granger emerged from their bedroom fresh and ready to take on the day, smiling down at their daughter. "Alright, are we ready?" Hermione smiled, jumping up off the couch. The tea had calmed her nerves, alright. Now she was purely eager to go.

Robert grabbed the keys off the rack and shook them over his head to indicate he was ready, and Elizabeth nodded at them. "Ready." Everyone could see the hesitation in Elizabeth's eyes and before she knew it, Hermione was hugging her fiercely.

"Mum, I know it's hard," Hermione said. "And I'm going to miss you, too. But I'll be home for Christmas and Easter! And I'll write you all every chance I get. So please, don't look so sad. It won't be forever. And we have all summer! Just think of this as me going to college a little earlier than expected!"

Elizabeth Granger had to laugh at her daughter's logic. It was true. She would have had to go through this same parting sooner or later. But at 11 years old? It was 7 years sooner than they had expected. Where had all the time gone? She was surely going to miss her little girl, but she was happy that she would be able to have an adventure. So she hugged her little girl hard, then let her go and straightened up. "Alright, then. What are we waiting for? Let's go! We don't want her to miss her train, now do we?"

Everyone smiled then, and off they went! In the car, Eliza held firmly onto Hermione's hand and shook it with excitement. "Think about it, Hermione! You'll come back a completely different person! We can talk about so many things I haven't been able to talk about with my family in forever! I feel as though I'm going back to Hogwarts with you! Oh, how I wish I could. You will absolutely love Minerva McGonagall. She's the head of Gryffindor house, and the professor for Transfiguration. She's possibly the most brilliant professor there, aside from the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. Now, for first years, you'll only be taking, what I like to call, gen. eds. Like in college, they're basic topics you need to be well versed in. I'm sure you'll excel in your classes, though. I've been watching you reading through your books like a little book worm!"

As Eliza went on and on…and on…and on…Hermione tried to tune her out. For once, Hermione wasn't trying to cling on her cousin's every word. In fact, a lot of what Eliza was saying was stuff that Hermione had already heard from her all summer. Then Hermione realized there was one thing she'd never really asked about her cousin. "Eliza." She hushed. "You never did tell me what house you'd been in."

Eliza went very still. "Why would you want to know something like that? Surely it shouldn't affect where the Sorting Hat decides to put you."

"Well…you told me about that dark wizard, You-Know-Who? It just occurred to me that you must have been in school during his reign. Actually, you might have even been ready to graduate. I was just wondering what things were like for you. It would differ depending on your house, wouldn't it?"

Hermione watched as Eliza pursed her lips, licking them nervously. Finally, under this stubborn 11-year-old girl's stare, she caved. "I was in Slytherin." Hermione was quite shocked. She would have thought Eliza would have been in any house _but_ that one. She was loyal, brave, and smart. But then, Hermione did think back on it. Her cousin was quite cunning and clever. And she always wore emerald green, the color of Slytherin. Why had Hermione never put it together before? "Don't get the wrong idea. Not all Slytherins are evil like everyone tends to think. I never took part in You-Know-Who's campaign. When that happened, I went and joined a rebellion called The Order. Dumbledore was in it, and so were Harry Potter's parents. Many Slytherins are cowards as well, though. Many of my Slytherin friends went into hiding. I see them every now and again, but they tend to keep to themselves. There are still those attached to You-Know-Who and would do anything to get revenge on those disloyal to him."

The rest of the ride was less energetic than at the beginning, leaving Hermione to her thoughts. Just before they arrived, Hermione thought aloud, "I wonder what house I'll be put in."

Eliza smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "Whichever house you are sorted into, they will be lucky to have you. However, I have a sneaking feeling I know exactly which house you'll put in. Ah-ah!" she cut off Hermione with a wave of her finger. "That is for me to know and you to find out once you get there. Alrighty?" Hermione closed her mouth and nodded with a smile as they pulled into the parking lot of King's Crossing and made their way inside. Hurrying along, they moved past Platforms 1…2…3…8…9…"Alright, we're here." Hermione and her parents looked around, very confused indeed. They were standing in the middle of platforms 9 and 10, but there was no Platform 9 ¾. "Remember that secret I told you about?" Eliza said to them, and they nodded. "Follow me." She stood in front of the platform 9 pillar…and then she walked through and disappeared.

"That…is so cool!" Hermione exclaimed in a hushed voice before running after her cousin before her parents could stop her. One second she was in King's Crossing, and the next she was in some newly lit magic platform. She stared at the long, red train and read: Hogwarts Express. Platform 9 ¾. "This…is so cool!" she screamed now, unable to contain her excitement. She felt a bump and realized she was in the entry way, and moved to make room for her parents. She watched their expressions turn from fear of running into a brick wall to astonishment at what they saw before them, and couldn't help but laugh when Eliza called to them.

"Hermione, Robert, Lizzie! Come! You're blocking the entrance and we need to get Hermione settled on board!" Eliza grabbed Hermione's trunk and gave it to the red head next to her. "Here, Fred. Put that in the trunk compartment for me, will you?"

"Nice to see you, too, Eliza," he said. Behind him came a second red head…that looked exactly like him.

"You have a clone!" Hermione exclaimed, causing many to stare at her as though she was daft in the head.

Fred smiled and patted his identical on the head. "Yup. I made him specially to look and act exactly like me. We think the same thing all the time, too! Isn't that so cool?"

Eliza hit him in the back of the head with her hand before scolding them. "Now, one more word from you and I'll have to tell your parents. Hermione, dear, they're twins. Not clones. Not everything you see in the wizarding world is magic. Some of it is pure biology. A lot of it, actually, but you get what I'm saying."

Hermione blushed, feeling quite embarrassed. "I-I'm sorry. This magic thing is still so new to me."

"Well, it's a good thing you've got a good head on your shoulders, Hermione," said the other red head, it being the first time he'd spoken since appearing and causing a commotion. "Most little muggleborns such as yourself have nearly gone mad by the idea of magic. Glad to see you're just enjoying the ride. Here, Fred, let me take the little lady's things."

Fred handed it over and said, "Good thinking, George! Wouldn't want to strain my arm after last night's quidditch game!" As George went away with Hermione's trunk, a red haired girl maybe a year or so younger than Hermione appeared by Fred and glared. "What is it, little sister?"

"You're not Fred, you're George!" she accused, confusing Hermione even more. "Fred didn't hurt himself trying to flip off his broom and do cartwheels in the air. That was you, George."

Fred-er-George sighed and patted his little sister's head and shoved her along back to their parents. "Sorry about that," George smiled. "Fred and I like to switch every so often to keep things interesting."

"How on earth is it possible to do cartwheels in the air?" Hermione blurted out without realizing.

George looked at her then and winked. "I'll show you sometime, little lady. But now, we really must get on before the train decides to take off without us wonderfully talented and good-looking folk. Come on, I'll show you 'round." Smiling, Hermione turned and gave her parents hugs and kisses on the cheeks before bidding them farewell and boarding. George waited for her before walking down the path and into a compartment. Fred, who until recently she'd believed to be George, was sitting there along with a girl and a boy, who both had light brown hair. "Hello, Fred, Katie, Oliver." When Fred looked at him confused, George rolled his eyes. "Outed by the little sister. Perhaps I shouldn't have said that little bit about Quidditch last night."

Fred agreed. "Well, hello there, Hermione. I'm the real Fred Weasley. This is Katie Bell and Oliver Wood. Katie, Oliver, this is Hermione Granger." Before Hermione could ask how they knew her last name, Fred continued. "We've known your cousin Eliza since we were kids. She always talked about her cousin's daughter. A little girl with big bushy brown hair and an excellent mind. You should have heard when she found out you were a witch. We couldn't get rid of her."

"I can only imagine," Hermione groaned.

"So…little girl with the excellent mind," George grinned. "Are you good enough to do our homework for us?"

Hermione blinked for a moment. She was beginning to catch on to their games. They were teasing her, expecting her to blush and be a timid little first year. Well, she couldn't have any of that, now could she? "Why, of course I am. I've practically memorized all my textbooks by heart, performed every spell flawlessly that I've come across, and if you were dying of poison I could save you in a heartbeat given the right equipment, and _I'm_ a muggleborn. However, I do hope you grown boys aren't cruel enough to ask me to do such a thing, for I would have to hex the pants off of you until you learned your lesson. Am I clear?"

At first, they all just stared at her in shock. Then, Fred leaned in ever so gently to his twin's ear and muttered, "Can I marry her?"

George leaned back and replied, "Only if you want her to put you into a Full Body Bind every time you forgot to take the trash out, mate."

Everyone laughed then and Hermione began to ease into a normal conversation. "So," said Fred. "Who wants to know something juicy?" Hermione rolled her eyes, thinking it was going to be some stupid joke about juice. "Harry Potter's on this train." Suddenly, everything got quiet. Hermione stared at him, waiting for him to crack and say it was a joke, but this time he was completely serious.

"And how exactly did you come across this information?" she asked, skeptical yet excited as can be. Would she really be able to meet a wizarding celebrity her first day into the wizarding world on her own? How much better could things get? She'd read all about him in a few of her books Eliza had bought her for some light reading while she waited over the summer, and found it quite fascinating that he had survived something no wizard had ever been known to walk away from. She also found it quite alarming and somewhat sad that he hadn't known exactly who he was until this summer. He wasn't muggleborn. He shouldn't have had to live in the dark. It was a good thing he knew now, though, and she supposed that was all that mattered. Part of her wanted to meet him and ask exactly where he had been all this time, but she didn't want to make a nuisance of herself. That would be quite embarrassing.

George spoke this time. "We met him. Saw his scar and everything when we were helping him put his trunk in the back, much like how we helped with yours. It was bloody incredible!"

"George, language around the little one," Fred scolded teasingly.

Hermione rolled her eyes at that, but before she had time to retort a reply, a round boy with a frightful face entered the compartment and looked around hastily. "H-have any of you seen a toad? I seem to have lost mine and if I don't find him, my grandmother will beat me 'til I'm black and blue."

They all shook their heads. He looked a mess. Hermione, compassion taking over, stood and looked at the others. "I'm going to go help him look for his toad. It'll give me something to do other than you two going on and on about trivial things." Then she turned to the boy and stared him down. "What's your name, anyway?"

"N-Neville Longbottom," he answered.

She nodded and said, "I'm Hermione Granger. Pleasure to meet you. Now, let's go and find your toad." They searched up and down the train, Hermione asking questions whilst they did so. She also talked to some of the students, mainly upperclassmen who could give her tips. Neville Longbottom actually seemed to be listening as well, so he didn't mind waiting a little bit as long as it wasn't too long. By the time the sun was setting, Hermione had decided she wanted to be in Gryffindor.

As she opened another compartment, she was hoping to find a clue as to where Trevor the toad had hopped off to. "Has anyone seen a t…oad." She hadn't meant to hesitate. She wasn't even aware she'd done so. She was aware, however, of the person in the compartment. It was the blonde boy she'd bumped into back at Ollivander's. By the look he was giving her, he'd obviously remembered her. After getting over their initial shock, Hermione pursed her lips and nodded at the boy. He followed suit before looking back at two rather large boys she presumed were first years as well.

"Ain't seen a toad," one said.

"Yeah," said the other. Then he added, "Even if we did, why would we care about telling an ugly and a fatso?"

Hermione was quite taken aback by this statement. She'd been called many things, but being called ugly was not one of them. Feeling the need to defend both herself and Neville Longbottom from their humiliating laughter, as well as to hide the hurt of seeing the blonde's smirk at their cruelty, she straightened herself and looked at the one who'd spoken. "For one, there is no such thing as 'an ugly'. Ugly is an adjective, not a noun, so if you're going to describe someone as ugly, use the term correctly as to not make yourself look more daft than you already are. And for two, I don't think either of you are eligible to use the term 'fatso' on anyone other than yourselves, seeing as you both are larger than anyone else on this train. It can't be healthy for you to be such a size. Now, if you'll excuse me, _Neville_ and I have to be going. We have more important things to do than deal with the likes of bullies who can't tell north from south. Let's go, Neville." With one last glance at the blonde, she turned on her heel and dragged Neville away.

Draco Malfoy just stared after her. He'd never seen someone take up for themselves, let alone someone _other_ than themselves, as she had just done. Maybe the wand had done right by choosing her as its owner. She had nerve, and he wasn't quite sure he hated it.

Hermione Granger was a force to be reckoned with after that. She glared at any student that seemed the least bit nasty towards her or Neville, going to every compartment they passed to see where the bloody hell Trevor had gotten to. They were nearing school and Neville was growing more desperate by the minute, but Hermione only became more determined. She went to open another compartment, but Neville spoke. "I've checked that one already."

She shrugged and opened it anyway. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." Her eyes fell onto the wand in the red-headed boy's hand, however, and she immediately forgot why she was there in the first place. He might have said something to her, but she spoke out of turn. "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see, then." She sat down right next to him, waiting for him to continue. She wondered vaguely if he were a brother of the twins, and also became curious as to how much most first years would know. If she knew more than they did, she would be known as the know-it-all once more. Not that she much cared, but she hoped to have at least one friend. The blonde seemed to be a no go. It wouldn't surprise her if he ended up in Slytherin. A pang of guilt came over her as she remembered Eliza had been in Slytherin as well, and hadn't turned out so bad.

"Er—all right." Her focus turned back to the red head, and she became excited to see what spell he would be doing to the ragged looking rat. He cleared his throat and began his enchantment. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" Nothing happened.

After a moment of silence and staring at the sleeping grey rat, she looked up at him and asked. "Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice," of course, by a few she'd meant most of the text book, "and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course. I mean, it's the very best of witchcraft there is, I've heard." _Oh, great,_ she thought. _I'm going into my know-it-all voice again. Why do I keep doing this?_ And still, she continued. "I've learned all our course books by heart, of course. I just hope it will be enough. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. Who are you?" She'd spoken so fast it was taking the boys a moment to catch up.

"I'm Ron Weasley." Of course. She wouldn't be surprised if the twins had given him that fake spell to cast on the poor rat.

"Harry Potter."

Her full attention turned to him, then. So it was true. "Are you really?" She couldn't believe it. She was _actually_ sitting across from the famous Harry Potter, someone she'd only read about in books. She'd always wanted to meet someone she'd read about in a book, and now she was here! In her excitement, she started again. "I know all about you, of course—I got a few extra books, for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century!"

"Am I really?" he gasp, and she was astounded that he didn't even know.

She went on and on about how if it were her, she would have tried to find out everything she possibly could. Then she started talking about houses and where she'll be put. She shared her thoughts on Gryffindor, or perhaps Ravenclaw. Finally, she left the compartment to continue helping Neville find his toad, warning them to change as they were almost to school. They rechecked every compartment. When they'd reached the blonde boy's compartment, she took a deep breath and entered, much to Neville's dismay. He just stood back. "Are you sure you haven't seen a toad?"

The blonde stared at her, no smirk or any sign of emotion on his face. But he did sneer after a moment of her gaze. "What do we get if we know anything?"

"You get to know which compartment Harry Potter is sitting in," she offered, and then realized what she'd just done. She secretly wanted to bury herself in a hole now, wishing she hadn't opened her stupid mouth.

Draco Malfoy stared at her for a moment. If he let a chance like this pass up to befriend Harry Potter, his father would destroy him. So he lied. "We saw a toad headed towards the back with the rest of the trunks." Staring her down with as much intimidation as he could muster, he growled, "Now where is Harry Potter?"

Hermione Granger sighed. "He's down that way, the third one closest to the front on the right. Thank you for your cooperation…er…what was your name again?" She'd just realized that while she and he kept running into each other, neither knew the other's name. Perhaps if she were cordial, he would stop being such a prat.

Draco stared at her for a moment, wondering whether to give a mudblood his name or not. Crabbe and Goyle, his loyal lapdogs basically, stared at him. They would surely tell their parents if he'd been civil with a mudblood, and that would get back to his father. There was no way he could let his father hear about such a thing. So he smirked at her and said, "No need to tell you. You'll soon know me as Harry Potter's best friend." He watched smugly as she left much the same as the last time before turning to Crabbe and Goyle. "Come on, you two brutes. Let's go greet the famous celebrity, shall we?" Without another word, they rose and followed the small blonde down to said compartment, opening it.

He was disappointed to see the boy from Madam Malkin's sitting there. And then it suddenly hit him that this was Harry Potter. _Oh, great,_ he thought. Many thoughts went through his head one fleeting moment of what this boy must think of him after their encounter in Diagon Alley, but only one thought summed up how he was feeling: _This is going to be harder than I thought._ "Is it true?" he asked, feigning excitement. Maybe if he were nicer, Potter would think to give him a second chance and get to know him better. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" It made sense now why he didn't speak much at the robe fittings. He didn't know what to say, and he had said his parents were dead.

"Yes," Harry Potter said, and Draco registered that he was staring at the two thugs on either side of him.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle," he sighed, as if he could care less. Then he looked at Potter with a look of confidence and introduced himself, trying to exude the same tone he'd heard his father use when introducing himself to those he was trying to get close to. "And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." The red-head next to him coughed, obviously hiding a snicker, and that didn't sit well with Draco. Getting laughed at for his name was something he was _not_ used to, especially by—who he was certain—was from a family with the lowest status and an embarrassment of a father as a role model. And so, he sneered and said. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys' have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford." Turning back to Potter, he smirked. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there. "Draco held out his hand, but sneered when Potter just stared at it. It was as Draco thought. Draco had dashed his hopes of becoming Harry Potter's friend the moment he'd opened his mouth at Madam Malkin's.

To prove his own point to himself, Potter spoke. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thank you."

Great. Well, nothing he could do about it now. Might as well act nasty and take charge. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he smirked. "Unless you're a bit politer, you go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Both boys stood, to Draco's amusement. "Say that again," the Weasley spoke, his face as red as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Draco laughed. Were they being absolutely serious?

"Unless you get out now." Potter spoke this time, sounding a lot braver than he looked. Draco could tell when he had the advantage, and he had the advantage right now.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some." Draco said all of this without taking his eyes off of the boy with the scar. Before he could continue his taunting, however, Goyle screamed and started running out, pushing Draco and Crabbe out as well. Of course, the big oaf would run because a stupid rat bit him!

Embarrassed, Draco followed the two dimwits, seeing as he wasn't going to get any farther with Potter. He couldn't compromise his façade just to befriend the very boy that put his father's leader out of power. Now that he thought about it, his father would probably make sure Draco went up against Potter in just about everything, no matter how ridiculous it was. And Draco would be expected to win…Something told him he wouldn't be keeping his promise to his mother like he had hoped to.

Lost in his thoughts, he bumped into someone and they both fell back. "Watch where you're going, will you?" he growled, taking the offered hand and trudging on. When he looked back, he met the cool eyes of Hermione Granger once again. He'd accepted her hand without thinking. Great. Just…great. He wiped his hand on the side of his robes, but he wasn't sure if it were to get off her germs, or to wipe away the nervous sweat he seemed to have when he was under her gaze.

Hermione looked back at the boy, wondering what it was about him that had her thinking about him all summer. Now that she was up close and had encountered him, she was beginning to think he was just another bully she didn't need to worry about. However, she felt the need to check in on Harry Potter and the Weasley brother once more to make sure they were okay.

"What has been going on?" she asked in exasperation. She took in all the scattered candy wrappers and other knick knacks all over the floor, and then watched as Ron picked up his pet rat by his tail. She rolled her eyes when Ron stated that he'd fallen asleep once more. Then Ron had asked Harry about knowing a boy named Malfoy. It didn't take her long to figure out that Malfoy was the blonde boy she happened to keep running into—quite literally. The more she heard about the boy, the more she began to dislike him. Ron spoke of his family joining the Dark Side and whatnot, taking her aback. This was the first she'd heard of a specific family being associated with You-Know-Who's campaign.

Then he looked over at her, wondering why she was still there. Slightly offended that he was being so rude, she said the first thing that came to mind. "You'd better hurry up and put your robes on. I've just been up front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!" Ron made some poor excuse about Scabbers, his rat, fighting, not him, and then rudely asked her to leave so they could change. Was every boy she came across in the wizarding world going to be rude to her? "All right—I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors." She went to leave when she noticed something on the red head's face. "And you've got dirt on your nose. Did you know?" Then she was gone. On her way back, she noticed a certain blonde staring at her from his compartment. Ignoring it, she found her way back to her own compartment with the twins and two quidditch members, waiting the rest of the ride out in peace.


	4. Chapter 4: Welcome to Hogwarts

**~Perfect Harmony~**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Sorry I didn't upload for a couple days. I have been busy moving from one state to the other, and I didn't have internet yesterday. I also apologize for any typos from my last few uploads. I will be proofreading them more closely from now on. Thank you all, and don't forget to send your reviews and thoughts!

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**~Welcome to Hogwarts~**

What was it about her? A mudblood was dictating his thoughts. Imagine what his father would say if he knew! Of course, his mother would secretly tell him rubbish about mudbloods being the same as everyone else. He wasn't completely sure he viewed them quite the same as she did, which slightly hurt him. He wanted to be who she wanted him to be. He wanted to be kind and friendly and loving like his mother, but he couldn't deny the fact that he was as rude as his father when it came to those lower in status than he. He was always torn between his parents. He loved his mother, but he admired his father. Lucius Malfoy was cold and distant, but he held his family together. He was the reason they had what they had. He did what he had to do to get everything. Draco had a theory that his father cared, and that he didn't show it because he was being strong for them. His mother viewed it differently, though, and Draco didn't understand why. He understood that she wanted someone she could just be herself around, but sometimes duty called where you had to be someone else. That's what he believed. And yet he loved how wonderfully kind his mother was and wouldn't want her to change. Would she despise him if she knew just how much like her husband he had already become?

Living in a split home wasn't easy for young Draco Malfoy. That was one reason why he was happy to be here at Hogwarts. He needed to get away and start figuring things out for himself. Perhaps he would find his own voice and be the person _he _wanted to be, although something told him that his mother's worst fears about him turning into his father were likely to come true. He'd been thinking like Lucius for awhile, anyway. Which was why he was so hung up on this bushy brown haired mudblood who already seemed just as intelligent, if not more so, than he himself thought he was. She'd already taken hold of a powerful wand, managed to stand up for both herself and someone she probably hadn't even met until today in a way he'd never seen, and from what he saw, spoken to Harry Potter like an ordinary person, demanding him to put on his robes. I don't think she even knew he was there.

As they slowed to a stop in Hogsmeade Station, everyone around him began to stand and gather their things. He, too, grabbed the bag he'd brought on board that held his wand, his change of clothes, and money his parents had lent him for the trolley and made his way out into the crowd, followed closely by both Crabbe and Goyle. Their parents had been close to Lucius Malfoy, apparently, and Lucius had instructed them to keep close watch on Draco to get him anything he needed. As he'd thought earlier, they were basically his lapdogs. He felt vaguely sorry for them at first, seeing as their time at Hogwarts would be spent following him around and obeying his every order. As the train ride had progressed, however, Draco began to realize that these two rather large blokes had no brain at all and needed to be told what to do. Otherwise, they would stand still looking at each other blankly for hours. It was quite ridiculous, actually, and soon Draco began to feel sorry for himself. His father hadn't instructed them to help him so much as handed them to him for him to babysit.

The half-giant oaf named Hagrid seemed to be the one conducting the first years, to Draco's misfortune, and up front and center were Harry Potter and the Weasley. Potter seemed very delighted, as though Hagrid was someone incredible, and the red-head was in awe. Draco found it disgusting that they would look at someone so low class as though that person were so high up in status, especially when they treated Draco as though he were filth from the bottom of their shoe. The more he thought about it, the more infuriated he actually became and threw his bag to Goyle. "Carry that for me, will you?" he demanded rather than asked, making his way up front with them in tow. As of right now, he just wanted to hurry up and get into the blasted school.

That's when he noticed a tuft of bushy brown hair hovering over a frail frame. It was the mudblood, still accompanied by the Toadless Wonder. What _was_ his name again? Not that it mattered, really. He knew that he would just continue to call the round bloke degrading names. It would help if knew his surname, though. If he knew his family, he could find ways to taunt him more accurately. Father always said the more information you know, the easier you can break a person.

Hermione Granger stood in the crowd of first years with Neville Longbottom, trying desperately to console him after having failed to help him find his toad. "Erm…it'll be alright. I'm sure he'll turn up at some point. I mean, how is your grandmother going to find out, anyway?" Neville was close to tears by this point, and Hermione had never really dealt with this sort of thing before. She'd always been with older children who would rather fight and scream than cry. She didn't think he was low for crying. She just wasn't sure what to do to get him to stop.

To be quite honest, she was slightly disappointed that she had to be parted from the Weasley twins. As treacherous as they were, they were the first people to introduce themselves to her, and they knew her cousin Eliza. She felt somewhat close to them, if only a bit, but it was enough for her to wish they were there with her. Neville was a nervous wreck and when she was around such people, it made _her _more nervous than she already was. The twins made her forget that she had just stepped into an entirely new world that she had yet to actually experience aside from books and tiny spells she'd used in her bedroom. She really wished she had some of Eliza's tea she'd had earlier that morning.

The large man in front instructed that they follow him, and the crowd began to move slowly but surely. She couldn't have expected much from a group of children on their first day of school. Of course, there were many muggleborns such as herself who were quite nervous, not knowing what to expect. When she was nervous, however, she became equally more excited. And so, in her excitement, she'd dragged Neville along with her to get as up front as she could. She ended up bumping into someone's shoulder, but she merely mumbled an apology and kept going, not looking back to see who it was.

Draco Malfoy watched as the brown-haired girl walked towards him, but when she bumped his shoulder and mumbled her apology, he found that she had already moved farther away from him. What was that girl's problem? It was as though she enjoyed bumping into him every chance she got. This time she hadn't even stopped to let him tell her to watch where she was going, as he had done so many times before. To be honest, the first few times were his fault. This time, however, he would have really meant it when he said it, if she'd given him the chance. She hadn't, though. She had continued to walk right past him to the front, dragging the Toadless twit along with her.

Crabbe stepped up to ask if he should do anything about her, but Draco just halted him with a raise of his hand. "Just let it go. We can pay the mudblood back later. After all, we have an entire year to taunt her." And he planned on doing a lot of it. He needed to be rid of her invading his thoughts, and taunting her was going to do just that.

As Hermione got to the front, she noticed several students, including Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, step into small boats that were wading in the water of the vast lake. The large man was yelling instructions. "No more 'n four to a boat!" Hurriedly, she pulled Neville into one and looked around. "Geez, Hermione," Neville panted, and that's when she really got a good look at him in the dim light of the lamp attached to the front of the boat. His face was red and he was gasping for air. Had she really been going _that_ fast? She hadn't thought so. "Did you have to drag me around like that?"

"Oh, Neville," she frowned. "I'm so sorry. I suppose I just got so excited. I'm a muggleborn, after all. I've never had an experience like this before. The only magic I knew about until recently were magic tricks and pulling rabbits out of hats."

Neville looked at her in obvious confusion. "Why on earth would you want to pull a rabbit out of a hat? That seems a bit ridiculous, don't you think?"

"And bringing a pet toad to school _and_ losing him as soon as you board the train isn't a bit ridiculous?" she retorted, although she seemed more amused than anything else at the moment. Now that Neville was coming out and speaking to her about more than ranting about where was his pet toad, she found him much more comfortable to be around. As he spoke about all the magic he'd grown up with, she listened wholeheartedly. She liked the fact that he was willing to talk to her about some of his life. She thought vaguely that, given his timid demeanor, he may be put in Hufflepuff, so she doubted they would be in the same house, but she was truly hoping to be his friend. He seemed to like her well enough.

She was talking to him about what a dentist was when she realized he was looking past her in awe, so she turned…and she supposed her face seemed to look just as dazed. There it was. Hogwarts…a castle in real life, and she would be taking classes of witchcraft within its walls. She would be learning magic in a _castle. _A beautiful castle, surrounded by beautiful greenery and a giant lake she could come out to sit around. Even though it was dark and she could barely see anything but black, she knew all of this. It was more beautiful than she could have imagined. Suddenly, her nerves as well as her excitement began to sky rocket and she could feel body start to shake. "Hermione, are you alright?" Neville asked.

She turned to him with the brightest smile on her face and said, "Neville, I don't think I've been more alright in my life."

Hermione hadn't been the only one to be in awe of the glory that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A few boats away from her own, Draco Malfoy was staring at the enormous building in front of him. He'd heard stories of its greatness, but to be here in person was unbelievable. The tales, the pictures, the books…none of it came close to describing its greatness. He was already thinking of all the things he would be doing whilst here. He would first work on staking his claim of authority of Slytherin house, then the rest of the school. His father would be proud of him to see all of the accomplishments he'd made on his own. And when things started to become too stressful, he could always come out here by the lake to let his mind wander. He did it at home in the garden often enough to not go crazy. Hopefully he could find a quiet spot hidden away from everyone else. A Malfoy needed his privacy, definitely.

One thing Draco Malfoy would not ever admit to was that he was excited about the library here. He'd seen pictures of it, and couldn't wait to get his hands on some of the books that would be available to him. If he could find a way, he planned to read a few books from the restricted section. Honestly, to put a restricted section so close to a bunch of curious first year students was like telling a 6 year old not to eat from the cookie jar. Sometimes they would do it merely because you told them not to.

"Heads down!" called Hagrid as they reached the low hanging cliff leading to a tunnel underneath the castle. Everyone did so, passing through a sheet of ivy vines that protected the opening. Soon, they reached what seemed to be some type of underground cavern and everyone tumbled out of the boats onto the pebble shore. Hagrid began to check each and every boat when he heard someone mention losing a toad. Turning to the nervous looking boy accompanied by a girl with great brown bushy hair, he boomed, "Oy! You there!" They both turned to stare at him, slightly frightened by the sudden call. Raising the toad he'd found and put in one of his many pockets, he held it out and asked, "Is this yer toad?"

A look of utter relief washed the boy's face and he ran up, calling, "Trevor!" Hagrid gave him the toad and he quickly ran back to the girl who had accompanied him.

"See, I told you he would show up!" Hermione said, patting him on the shoulder. Neville was just too happy to speak, so she smiled and let him have his moment. She really didn't think it was as big of a deal as he'd made it out to be, but then again, if she'd lost something precious to her she would be very delighted to find it as well. As they were led up a pathway in the rock that made up the cavern by Hagrid and his over sized lamp, Hermione became lost in thought of what she would be expecting throughout this year away from home in a world she'd only been introduced to two months ago this summer. It was all very exciting, really, until she thought of what would happen if she were put into Slytherin or Hufflepuff. If she were sorted into Hufflepuff, she wouldn't only take a blow to her pride in her intelligence and character; she'd basically be handed to that blonde Malfoy boy on a silver platter. If she were in Slytherin, no matter how wonderful her cousin Eliza was, she would probably be bullied in her own house. They'd be forcing her to do their homework and making fun of her for not being like them. She wouldn't give in, of course, but she wouldn't have a very good time, either.

Ravenclaw would be nice, seeing as everyone there she could blend in with the rest of the know-it-alls. The problem with that was that she didn't _want_ to fit in. She didn't like limelight too much, that was hardly the case, but she wanted to be her own person. She wanted to be Hermione Granger, the muggleborn who happened to be the smartest girl in school. Eliza had told her how some families looked down upon muggleborns, and she was determined to prove that she wasn't only a muggleborn. She was a witch, and she would become a bloody good one if she had anything to do with it!

They finally surfaced onto moist, level grass, climbing stone steps up to the large, oak front door. Hagrid looked over his shoulder at all the tiny first years. "Everyone here? You there," he nudged Neville. "Still got yer toad?" Neville nodded, slightly frightened of the overly large man. Hagrid nodded back, then raised one colossal sized fist and knocked exactly three times and stepped back.

As soon as he had, everyone watched as the door immediately swung open. Standing there was a tall, slender looking woman of age adorned in beautiful emerald green robes that reminded Hermione of her cousin Eliza. On her face was an impassively stern stare that tipped Hermione off immediately as to who this stern looking woman was.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the giant man who'd led them here. Hermione secretly smiled in triumph at having guessed correctly.

Professor McGonagall nodded at Hagrid and said. "Thank you, Hagrid." She told him she would be taking over, and many watched as Hagrid walked off, and then everyone's eyes fell back on the elderly woman as she stepped back to let them into the entrance hall. Hermione tried not to look more astonished than she had this entire time, but she couldn't help it. The entrance hall was half the size of her house, and that in itself was a lot. Her house over the average-sized house. That was one thing she was determined to never let anyone know about. If people knew she was from a wealthy family, she'd probably get people trying to cozy up to her and she wouldn't be quite sure whether they could be trusted with her friendship or if they were merely using her for her money.

As she continued to get caught up in her own thoughts, Professor McGonagall took all the first years into a smaller chamber off to the side of what Hermione could only guess was the Great Hall where they would be eating and then turned to face them all at the top of the steps so everyone could see her. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses." She continued to tell them about how your house would be like your family. She explained how they would have class together and spend their free periods in their house common rooms, and when it was time for bed, they would be sleeping in their house dormitories.

Then she went on to talk about house points. Hermione was hanging on her every word, thinking of all the different ways she could get acquire house points as quickly as possible. She was truly hoping to be in Gryffindor. It was the only house that made sense to her, and both the headmaster as well as Professor McGonagall was in Gryffindor. That posed the question: Why did Professor McGonagall wear emerald green? Her cousin, she could understand, but her? As far as Hermione had heard, Slytherin and Gryffindor were sworn enemies, and yet the head of Gryffindor wore her enemy's house color? It was a little weird, and Hermione was definitely going to ask her later.

She ended by telling all the first years that the Sorting Ceremony would be taking place soon. "I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." That was all Hermione needed to hear. As soon as Professor McGonagall disappeared, Hermione turned to Neville and began talking about all the spells she'd learned from her books over the summer. "Well, if they want a simple spell just to prove we can actually perform magic, I could just use _lumos_, which just casts light from the tip of your wand. Or I could unlock a door with _alohomora. _Oh, there are so many spells going through my head. I just wish they would give us a hint about what we actually need to do to be sorted. This is all very—AH!"

Suddenly, everyone began to scream as tons of transparent beings whooshed down upon them in surprise. "Are those…ghosts?!" she exclaimed. Eliza had not once mentioned that there were going to be _ghosts_. Hermione didn't even know that they actually existed, and now here they were, talking and laughing and…and…and being _ghosts! _A few were talking about forgiving some thing or person named Peeves, but many of the others advised against it. Apparently, this Peeves was a trouble ghost of some sort.

Just as a ghost known as the Friar began to talk about being the ghost of Hufflepuff house, Hermione turned back to the front in time to see Professor McGonagall had returned. "Move along now," she snapped. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to begin." She ordered the first years to form a line and in they went. Hermione clasped her hands tightly together, trying to calm her nerves, and took a deep breath.

Draco Malfoy stared up at the ceiling as they entered the Great Hall, and gasp. It was the sky! A few spaces ahead of him, he heard the bushy haired girl speak as though she'd heard his thoughts. "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in 'Hogwarts, A History.'" The bloody know-it-all. She managed to suck out the fun in his life, and the nutty thing was that she didn't even know she was doing it. He had a sinking feeling that by the end of the week, he was going to want to hex her into oblivion. Was that legal?

Up front, Professor McGonagall was placing a four-legged stool in the center of the risen floor. The staff was sitting at a long table overlooking the Hall, and it made Draco feel a bit edgy. He didn't like the idea of being watched. As he finished his thoughts, he noticed the professor place a rather disgusting-looking pointed hat on the stool and Draco groaned. _That _was the famous Sorting Hat? Looking around, it occurred to him that most people here probably didn't even know what the thing was. After all, alumni weren't usually supposed to tell anyone about it. It was meant to be a surprise for the newcomers. Lucius, however, found it childish to keep children in the dark about something so silly. Draco was inclined to agree with him on that one, although his mother seemed a bit sad. She thought his father was sucking out the fun of being a first year.

At that moment, the hat decided to come to life and sing:

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty_

_But don't judge on what you see_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me_

_You can keep your bowlers black_

_Your top hats sleek and tall_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all_

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be_

_You might belong in Gryffindor_

_Where dwell the brave of heart_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindor apart_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff_

_Where they are just and loyal_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw_

_If you've a ready mind_

_Where those of wit and learning_

_Will always find their kind_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends_

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a thinking cap!_

Everyone cheered at the end, and Hermione smiled. It may have been a dirty looking hat, but it had a wonderful mind to have come up with that song. Also, she was quite happy that she wouldn't have to do anything but put it on. She faintly heard the Weasley brother speak to Harry about wanting to kill Fred for making him think it was something painful. She couldn't help but smile. Those twins were something else, alright. She nearly felt bad for Ron, having brothers who tricked you to no end, but he really should have been used to it by now if he'd been living with them all this time. It made her question Ron's intelligence a bit.

Now came the sorting. Professor McGonagall instructed them to come up and sit as she placed the hat on their head once she called their name from the scroll in her hand. As it went in alphabetical order, Hermione knew she'd have to wait a little bit. So she started to wonder where she'd be placed for the hundredth time since learning about Hogwarts. As she recalled the Hat's song, she realized exactly what every house was about. Gryffindor was for the brave of heart. Hufflepuff was for the loyal and hardworking. Ravenclaw was for those wise and witty. And Slytherin was for the cunning. The bit about finding your true friends baffled her, though. As far as she knew, they were cowards. That's why they had to be cunning, because they couldn't take things head on.

'_Brave of heart.' _ Something sounded vaguely familiar about that sentence. That's when she remembered Ollivander. He had told her only a brilliant mind and a pure heart could handle the wand currently in her possession. So where did that leave her? A brilliant mind could mean cunning or witty, which was Slytherin ad Ravenclaw. A pure heart could mean loyal like Hufflepuff, or brave like Gryffindor. Why did deciphering this have to be so difficult? Her cousin Eliza didn't seem to have a problem deciphering where Hermione would be going, or so she said. Now that she thought about it, perhaps Eliza was merely saying that to make Hermione stop asking questions.

Before she could think on the matter, Professor McGonagall was calling her name. _So soon?_ In her haste, she nearly ran all the way up and jammed the Hat on her head before Professor McGonagall could gently place it there. She was hoping it would be quick so she could get it over with. It didn't take very long before it screamed, "GRYFFINDOR!" Relief washed over her and she hurried on down to the twins, who were smiling just as much. They welcomed her warmly as she sat down beside them, Fred being closest, or so she assumed. She had been trying her best to tell them apart and was actually catching on quite nicely. Fred was the more mischievous one, where as George was more laid back. That didn't mean he let Fred think everything up. On the contrary, he played one of the bigger roles in their plans. Fred came up with a lot of the ideas, but it was George who came up with the means to make his ideas come to life. They worked in perfect harmony.

Draco Malfoy watched as the mudblood, whose surname happened to be _Granger_, rushed happily down to the Gryffindor table as everyone from her table cheered. She seemed to be very cozy with the Weasley twins, whom he'd had the displeasure of running into when his father had brought him to work. The Ministry of Magic liked to have 'bring your child to work' day every so often for some awful reason. Luckily, they only allowed up to three children at most. His father had told him they had instated that rule specifically because of the Weasley family having six boys and one girl. So Arthur Weasley always brought the twins and that prat, Percy, along. Percy was a stuck up little know-it-all who acted as though he were so much better than everyone, and Draco found it disgusting. As for the twins, well…Draco had brought along headache solutions for that.

"Malfoy, Draco." He looked up as his name was called, then made his strode up the few steps to sit on the stool. There was a slight fear as to what would happen if he were sorted anywhere _but _Slytherin, but he needn't worry because no sooner had the Hat's brim touched his neatly gelled hair than it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" He knew it. He had too much Slytherin blood to be put anywhere else. He caught the gaze of Hermione Granger and smirked, making his way down slowly at first just to hold her eyes on his before strutting his way down to the table of screaming Slytherins. They knew who he was now. A Malfoy. And that is why they were cheering so loudly, he knew it. They knew who would soon be holding power, and they knew his family. Most of their families had been somewhat acquainted with his father and Aunt Bellatrix Lestrange, who was currently in Azkaban.

When the Toadless twit was called, Draco was slightly interested to know he was a Longbottom. Part of him felt bad for him. After all, it was _his_ aunt that had tortured Longbottom's parents until they went nutty and had to be put in a permanent psych ward at St. Mungos. It was no wonder the rounded boy seemed so frightened when they'd seen each other on the train.

Then he heard it. "Potter, Harry." Suddenly, everyone was whispering in the Hall, and when everyone started whispering, it was a lot louder than it should have been. People were questioning the accuracy of the name, wondering if it were the true Harry Potter or just a brat with the same name. Many were trying to stretch their necks to get a look at his forehead to see the lightning bolt scar that was there under his bangs. Draco rolled his eyes, but paid attention, no less. He was interested to see where he would be put. Although, he was quite sure where he would be, seeing as which house his parents were from. He was slightly shocked to see that the Hat was taking a particularly long time placing him. Shouldn't it have been blatantly obvious? Perhaps the stupid hat was talking to him and asking for an autograph. Could it do that?

Hermione sat nervously, watching. Why was it taking so long to place Harry? It wasn't that she was hoping for him to be in the same house as her like most of the other students in the Great Hall. She was nervous _for_ him. After all, she knew enough about him to know that all of this was still as new to him as it had been for her. It must be nerve wracking, having to sit for so long with so many eyes watching you, knowing more about you than you knew about yourself. As she thought about this, her eyes fell on a particular professor. He bore a purple turban and was fidgeting quite a lot. It was then that she realized he was the one from the Leaky Cauldron. He was the one she'd sensed earlier in there, but as she got a good look at him, she began to doubt that sinister feeling she'd gotten from him then. He seemed too feeble and frail to be anything dangerous. If anyone were dangerous looking, it would be the professor sitting a few seats away from him with his long nose and greasy black hair, wearing all black robes and not a trace of a smile there at all.

Suddenly, the hat screamed, "GRYFFINDOR!" and the loudest cheer yet boomed throughout the Hall, Hermione cheering as loud as her little lungs would allow her without damaging her vocal chords. She may not have been like these people who just wanted a famous person as part of their house, but it didn't mean she wasn't excited to have Harry Potter, either. She couldn't help her laughter as both Fred and George began jumping up and down on their seats screaming, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" After a moment, however, she realized everyone begin to quiet down, so she rolled her eyes and pulled them down by their sleeves. They all greeted Harry welcomingly, a prefect named Percy who happened to _also _be a Weasley brother shaking his hand triumphantly as he reached the table. Harry nodded towards her and the twins, and then he sat down as they waited for Ron.

Draco sneered at the table. They were being ridiculous. Just because Potter was some stupid celebrity didn't mean anything. After all, he was famous for something he didn't even remember! He didn't do anything. It was a bit of luck, or something, but it had nothing to do with Potter himself. It infuriated Draco that the scar head was getting all of this attention when he hadn't even done anything! In that moment, Draco silently declared war with Harry Potter. And as he watched the last Weasley join them from being sorted into Gryffindor, he declared war on him, too.

The headmaster stood then, silver white hair draping over his robe as he walked up to look out over the Great Hall and its students. "Welcome," he said, a raspy tone full of wisdom and age showing through. It was the first time Hermione had really taken a notice to him, but there was something twinkling in his eye that made her feel as though she'd known him for ages. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" Everyone stared at him in silence, thinking he would perhaps explain what those words meant. Instead he smiled, bowed and said, "Thank you!"

Slowly, everyone began to clap, and then they were cheering. Hermione wasn't sure whether to laugh or be worried. Before she could say anything, however, Harry spoke her thoughts. "Is he…a bit mad?"

Percy, who had decided to sit right between them, answered. "Mad? He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?" Hermione shared Harry's confusion at the sudden offer, until suddenly an abundance of food appeared upon the golden dishware. Potatoes, turkey, every kind of gravy, corn, green beans…and then dishes she'd never even seen before were appearing before her very eyes and she couldn't help but once again be astonished. Not even trying to hide her delight any longer, she tried to get a little bit of everything. She didn't want to fill herself up on too much, seeing as classes started tomorrow and she didn't want to make herself sick before school even started. That wouldn't be a good way to start her life as a witch.

As the feast continued, she learned who was pureblood, half-blood, and muggleborn, and she got to hear amazing stories. Percy Weasley turned to her after having talked Harry Potter's ears off, trying to get a background check of everyone who'd entered his house. "Hello, we haven't been formally introduced, have we? I'm Percy Weasley," he said, offering her his hand cordially. He seemed a bit pompous, but Hermione didn't quite mind it. It at least let her know she could count on him to know anything she needed answers to.

Taking his hand, she smiled and said, "I'm Hermione Granger. It's a pleasure to meet you. If I might ask, exactly _what_ is does a prefect do and how do you become one?"

He seemed fairly pleased to see someone taking such an interest. "Well, it all depends on your academic progress, as well as your class conduct. You are eligible to be chosen as a prefect during your fifth year, and they send you your badge when they send your letter each summer. Once you are chosen, you hold the title of prefect until you graduate. However, there are times when one will decline to become a prefect, and then they have to choose someone else, obviously."

"I see," Hermione hummed. "So is there a prefect for each house? I see there is about six prefect badges throughout each house, so would that mean a boy and a girl are chosen from each house each year in their fifth year, and they just carry that on until they leave?"

Percy was surprised. "You've a good eye, young lady," he complimented, and she couldn't help but smile and blush a bit.

It was then that the twins glared mockingly at their brother and draped their arms around Hermione's tiny shoulders."Is this bloke giving you trouble?" asked Fred.

"Wouldn't want people to think you're harassing the little lady, would we?" George added.

Together in perfect sync, they smirked and said, "It would reflect badly on our family, you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes at their games, then she saw how red Percy was becoming. Was their entire family short-tempered? She was beginning to think the twins were the only truly friendly ones in the bunch. Then again, she'd only seen their little sister for a total of five seconds before George had pushed her away so they could board the Hogwarts Express earlier this morning. "Stop it, you two!" she laughed, shrugging them off. "I am _trying_ to have a nice, serious and civil conversation with the only sensible person you seem to have in your family as of late."

That made Percy go pink in the ears at her compliment, and George grinned. "Uh-oh, mate," he said, nudging his identical. "I think you might want to watch out for that one. He might steal away your bride-to-be." Fred lightly pushed George and they had a good laugh. Then Hermione turned back to Percy.

"Funny bunch, they are," she commented. "Anyway, prefects. What were we saying about it?"

Percy cleared his throat and continued. "I was merely complimenting you upon your vigilant abilities. Now, there is also a Head Boy and Girl who are in charge of the prefects. There are only two in the whole school at one time, and they are chosen during their last year here. They aren't always chosen from the prefects, although I reckon I'll be in line for Head Boy my last year. Logically, not being arrogant or anything," he added quickly, although it didn't seem at all sincere. Hermione merely let it go, though. She was busy thinking of everything she would be doing to ensure she got Head Girl her last year. It would be the cherry on top to a perfect ending. But first she had to get through these next six years before she worried about her seventh.

Draco Malfoy was eagerly digging into his feast when up came a ghost covered in what appeared to be…blood? And he'd chosen to saddle right on up to Draco. The reason became quite evident once he started talking. "A Malfoy, eh?" he drawled, creeping the bloody hell out of Draco Malfoy. All he'd wanted to do was eat in piece, and now he had to sit and be taunted by some bloody ghost…a _very _bloody ghost. "Your father and I go way back, you know?" Ah, there was the answer. "And your grandfather. And your great-grandfather. And your great-great-grandfather. And your…" and he went on and on until finally Draco couldn't take it anymore.

"Alright, I get it!" he groaned, causing many to stare at him. At the moment, he didn't care. "May I eat, now?"

"You will not talk to your house ghost in that tone, young Malfoy." Before the Bloody Baron could continue his threat, another ghost came over and started idly chatting with him. In mere seconds, the Bloody Baron had forgotten all about Malfoy, letting him get back to his food in peace.

Hermione was speaking to Percy about her excitement to start classes, particularly Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall when Harry clamped a hand on his forehead, right where his scar was. It was subtle, so not many noticed, but Hermione and Percy were quite worried. "What is it?" Percy asked.

"N-nothing." Hermione didn't buy it for a second, but she couldn't go prying into things that weren't her problem. That scar held dark magic. Of course it was going to be doing funny things every so often. Perhaps he'd said nothing because this sort of thing always happened. She would never know. Suddenly, Harry turned and asked Percy about the greasy professor Hermione had noted as scary looking early. He was talking to the turban professor. Percy told them it was the potions master, Professor Snape, who was very blunt about wanting to take on the Defense Against the Dark Arts class instead. Apparently, he knew quite a lot about the Dark Arts. That definitely struck a wrong chord with Hermione, and Harry no doubt as well.

As the night came to a close, the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, stood to give a few _actual_ announcements. He spoke of how the forest was forbidden to all students. He pointedly looked at the Weasley twins when he added that it would be wise to remember that rule. Of course, Hermione had a sneaking feeling they weren't really listening. Once again, she heard of Quidditch, but at least she'd looked it up in her books and knew what he was talking about this time. Then he ended with a warning of how students weren't allowed on the third floor corridor this year. Percy thought it strange that he didn't give a reason other than students would undoubtedly meet death, causing fear in Harry Potter, and her as well. That would be one rule she would be extra careful to follow. She didn't feel like dying in her first year. She had too many things planned for these next few years, yes she did.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song! Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!" He swung his wand and words sprang to life. She sang to some tune she'd heard on the radio the day before, while the twins sang to some awfully slow funeral march. She finished around the time most did, but there were a few stragglers. Of course, the twins were the last, and she smiled as Professor Dumbledore used his wand as though he were conducting an orchestra to their last few notes. When they finished, he was the loudest cheering everyone on. It was quite fantastic, really. And then they were off to bed. Thankfully, this day was coming to an end.

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I'm sorry if parts of it seem choppy, and I'm very sorry for not having uploaded in the last few days. They've been crazy busy, but I'll be trying my best to upload faster!


	5. Chapter 5: Acrophobia

**~Perfect Harmony~**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

On with the story!

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**~Acrophobia~**

He was trying. He was trying very hard, actually, but every time she came around all if he wanted to do was tear his hair out and scream. She was getting on his last nerve in a way no one ever had before! The more he tried to hide his emotions, the more irritating she became. The worst part about it was that she didn't even know it! She's been ruining his life one class at a time. In Potions, where he was fairly certain he would excel in, she wouldn't put her bloody hand down the entire time. Every question Professor Snape asked that stupid Potter, she'd raise that bloody hand of hers higher and higher until she nearly fell out of her seat and ended up standing! How bloody desperate could you get to show off how smart you are? Draco thought he'd seen desperation before? That stupid mudblood was showing him a whole new level of desperate, and he wasn't liking it one bit because she was being so ridiculous he hardly had time to sit and think!

She had already made herself a teacher's pet with that Transfiguration professor. What baffled him about her was that she wore Slytherin colors, and yet she herself was the head of Gryffindor. It made no sense at all. Either way, he couldn't deny the fact that she was quite brilliant at transfiguring things. He just wished that mudblood would keep to herself and stop being such a bloody know-it-all all the time. It was as though she were trying to make it known that she was the smartest girl in class, when most people try not to do such things.

If he were being honest, though, his irritation didn't have to do so much with her showing off as it had to do with how well off she was when she hadn't even known any of this stuff existed until this summer when she'd gotten her letter here. How was it that she managed to be so bloody brilliant when she was a…a _mudblood?_ He just didn't get it. He'd been taught that mudbloods were lowly beings who barely knew anything. They were weak and clueless. Yet here she was, challenging everything he'd ever believed about her kind, and she was doing it flawlessly.

One thing that he had over her, though, was flying. He may not be soaring as smoothly through these classes like the mudblood, but flying lessons started tomorrow at three-thirty. There was no way she was going excel at that. It wasn't something you couldn't learn from just reading out of a book, but he was highly amused when he walked into the library that afternoon.

"What _are_ you doing?" he sneered, noticing exactly what she was doing. When she tried to ignore him, he took a seat across from her, tossing an apple up and down before taking a bite of it rather loudly. After moments of chewing, he realized she was more stubborn than he'd thought. "You won't learn anything from reading out of a bloody book."

"Mind your tongue, Malfoy," she said carelessly without looking at him, but he could tell he'd begun to get to her. So foul language got to her, did it? He'd have to remember that for next time.

Looking down at the page she'd been reading, he scoffed. "You really think you're going to learn how to fly on a broom by reading '_Quidditch Through the Ages'_? Granger, you're being bloody ridiculous—"

She snapped the book shut in his face and glared at him then, and he couldn't help but smirk smugly at her. He'd gotten to her. "You're being a prat and I don't fancy it at all," she spat. There was something in her eyes he hadn't ever seen before, and it was quite unnerving. Was she really that worked up over learning to fly on a broom? "I've never been off the ground before, so I was trying to find some useful tips before trying to mount a broom that was going to fly me away into the sky where something could go wrong midair and I'd have broken something. And before you mention Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing, I don't doubt her abilities to fix broken bones. I just don't want to have to go through the pain of breaking it in the first place."

Draco Malfoy stared at her. "We're only going to be hovering over the ground for two seconds, Granger, and we won't be going very high, anyway. No need to get your knickers all in a twist."

Hermione wasn't sure what to make of this. Was this his way of consoling her, or was he just being crude and nasty towards her like he always was. The problem was, Draco Malfoy himself wasn't sure either, not that he was letting on. His smirk stayed in place, but it wasn't as prominent as it had been a few moments ago. "Just mind your own business, will you?" she sighed finally, gathering her things and tucking the notes she'd made safely in her robes. "I have more important matters to deal with than a bully who doesn't understand how difficult it is to be…well…someone like me."

Draco stared after her as she walked away, wondering what she'd meant. Had she been talking about her blood status? Was that why she was acting the way she was, to prove herself? Had he just gotten a glimpse of the real Hermione Granger, and why did he suddenly want to know more about her? He stood and walked away in thought, the apple laying forgotten on the surface of the table.

As Thursday rolled around the corner, Draco sat himself next to Blaise Zabini, someone he'd actually thought of as pleasant company. "Flying lessons start today, don't they?" Blaise asked as he added bacon to his plate.

"Indeed, it does," the young blonde smirked, thinking back to his encounter with Granger in the library. He was eager to see her usually composed face contort in frustration.

As he and Blaise continued talking about all their flying accomplishments, Hermione Granger sat at the other side of the Hall lecturing everyone on the many tips she'd learned from _Quidditch Through the Ages. _"If you lean slightly forward, then it will ease you back to the ground and—"

Suddenly, she was interrupted by the mail. She sighed, rolling her eyes as everyone became excited, watching as the owls came fluttering overhead. A letter fell in front of her and she smiled, knowing Eliza and her parents had finally replied to her. She had been expecting it a bit sooner, but later was better than never.

Draco was pleased to see that Potter hadn't received one single thing since that invitation to that blasted Hagrid's hut. He had been getting sweets from his mother every single day since being here, and money from his father as well. He may not be home, but his parents continued to make sure he had the very best. Just as he was unwrapping a box of Chocolate Frogs, he noticed Longbottom had received a rather interesting piece of merchandise. "Crabbe. Goyle. Let's go pay the Gryffindors a visit, shall we?" He stood and made his way down briskly as the two dimwits hurried to catch up.

Neville was just telling everyone what a Remembrall was when Draco Malfoy snatched it out of the poor, clumsy boy's hand without hesitation. He caught sight of the bushy haired girl's glare, but just before he could make any sort of witty comment about how daft her round friend was, Professor McGonagall had shown up. With a scowl, he jammed the glass ball back into Longbottom's hand, telling the professor he was just looking, and then marched away.

Hermione watched as he walked away, rolling her eyes and turning back to her food that she'd barely touched. She was very scared for today's lesson. She'd never flown on a broom before. A plane, yes, but a broom? Something she had to control on her own? Never. As much as she'd read about all the flying accidents that have occurred over the years, she wasn't looking forward to this one bit. She would never admit, but she was deathly afraid of heights. Planes weren't nearly as bad because she was too busy looking out at the sky, and she was inside of something. It was just…different.

Three-thirty came entirely too soon for her, but for many others—including Draco Malfoy—it couldn't have come soon enough. Madam Hooch, who would be their flying instructor, came strutting down the field to them. Her eyes had an uncanny similarity to that of a feline or a hawk, and her hair was short and grey. Everyone stood clumped together and stared at her, and she stared back at them. And then she shouted orders. "Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone stand by a broom. Come on, hurry up!" In an instant, everyone was scrambling to get to one of the twenty brooms placed in two distinctly neat lines. Draco had already chosen his before anyone had gotten there, and so he watched in amusement. His eyes fell on Granger, who seemed as though she were trying hard to be sick. If she did make a fool of herself, Draco was _never _going to let her live it down.

Hermione hurriedly got next to the broom farthest away from the blonde who seemed to be watching her closely, and barely noticed as Neville chose the one next to her. Madam Hooch had made her way to the front of the line and was waiting for everyone to get settled before instructing them further. "Stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'Up'!"

"Up!" Hermione said, but the broom simply rolled over. Harry, who was standing on her other side, had his broom jump into his hand eagerly, and Hermione stared at him for a moment. Looking over at Malfoy, she felt slightly better that his broom was taking a bit longer as well. But that changed as he looked at her. Then he looked back down at his broom, said it again, and it shot into his hand as well. Great. Now he was gloating once more. Determined not to be outdone, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and screamed, "UP!" No sooner had she done so than her broom reached her arms. A breath of relief escaped her lips and she turned to send a smirk of her own at the blonde, only to see that he was busy lost in his own thoughts. Well…this felt a bit disappointing.

Draco watched as Madam Hooch showed everyone how to mount their brooms without slipping off the end, and then mounted his own as she'd told everyone else to do. He would be excelling in this class, no problem. It might be a bit irking to see that Potter got his broom faster than anyone else had, but that didn't mean a thing. Calling a broom up and actually flying were two entirely different things, and Draco definitely had more experience. He had the upper hand—"Mr. Malfoy, how long have you been flying?" asked Madam Hooch, interrupting her thoughts. Had she noticed his expert posture already? This class was getting better by the moment.

"I've been flying since I was five, ma'am," he boasted, resisting the urge to rub it everyone's face. "And I'm a wonderful Quidditch player, if I do say so myself."

Madam Hooch stared at him for a moment, and then she crushed him. "Mr. Malfoy, you've been gripping your broom entirely wrong this entire time. Do fix it." And then she walked away. Draco didn't want to know what his face looked like at the moment. How dare she embarrass him like that in front of the entire class? It was horrid! He shoved Crabbe off when he'd tried consoling him, and gripped his broom the way everyone else was. She said something about hovering a few feet and then coming back down once she blew the whistle. He wasn't really listening, though, lost in his own thoughts.

Apparently, neither had Longbottom. He'd been so scared about not being able to get off the ground that he kicked the ground hard before she even raised the whistle to her lips, and then he lost control, screamed, and fell. All the little Gryffindors ran to his aid, but Draco was, like the rest of the Slytherins, trying hard not to laugh.

Hermione was very concerned for Neville. Madam Hooch had said he had a broken wrist. This was the very thing she had been dreading, and she couldn't help but feel relieved it hadn't been her who had broken anything. Madam Hooch instructed no one to get on a broom, or they would be expelled. As soon as they were out of earshot, Malfoy was roaring with laughter, followed closely by the rest of the Slytherins. Parvati Patil stepped in to stand up for her fellow Gryffindor before Hermione had the chance, causing Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin and her got into an argument.

What stopped it was Malfoy, and in his hand was the Remembrall Neville's grandmother had given him. He held it up so it glinted in the sun, and Hermione had an awful feeling he was about to do something horrible to it. "Give that here, Malfoy." It was Harry who had spoken up.

Draco stared at him thoughtfully, aware of everyone's eyes on him. He smirked, then. This was just what he'd been waiting for: a chance to challenge the famous Harry Potter. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about…up a tree?" Harry screamed for him to hand it over, but Draco had already mounted his broom and began to fly over to the tallest tree he could find. "Come and get it, Potter!"

Hermione knew exactly what he was trying to do, and she wasn't going to let Malfoy get the best of them if she had anything to say about it. Rushing over, she grabbed Harry's arm as he began to get on his broom, and exclaimed, "No! Madam Hooch told us not to move. You'll get us all into trouble!" Her pleas were ignored, and she could only hope he wouldn't get hurt, but most of all, she hoped he wasn't caught. They'd already lost points in Potions due to that rather nasty Professor Snape.

Draco was fairly surprised that Potter was _actually_ flying as well as he was. He'd never been on a broom before, but that could have fooled anyone. And it worried Draco. He thought he'd be safe up here. "Give it here," Harry growled, "Or I'll knock you off your broom!" Draco went to retort, only provoking Harry as he zoomed straight at him. He'd barely dodged his attack, and this wasn't fun anymore. Not at all. Below, people were cheering Potter on, and it wasn't looking too good for him. He was making a fool of himself…again. He needed to do something, and fast. He truly feared breaking something if he was up here dodging Potter's charges at him for much longer, and he didn't have Crabbe and Goyle here to help him

As though reading his mind, Potter taunted, "No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy."

That was it. "Catch it if you can, then!" he yelled and, with all his strength, threw the blasted glass ball as far as he could.

Hermione nearly had a heart attack, watching as Harry zipped off to catch the Remembrall. He was going so fast, she was sure he'd lose control. She couldn't watch this. She was scared out of her mind that he was going to get himself hurt, and she wasn't going to be witness to it! Even as she thought this, however, she found that she couldn't take her eyes off of him. He was amazing! He was flying through the air as though he'd done this all his life. The Remembrall began to lose speed and fell at a rapid speed, and still Harry plunged after it. Everyone was watching him, not a sound to be made except the wind. Then he caught it mere inches from the ground and pulled up with seconds to spare. Her hammering heart nearly jumped out of her chest, but she was just happy he had managed to pull it off without getting hurt. How he'd done it was beyond her, but she ran up to him along with the rest of Gryffindor, cheering just as loudly in the excitement. That's when they heard a very loud, "HARRY POTTER!"

Everyone turned to see Professor McGonagall striding briskly up the field to where they were. Their victory had been all too short-lived. She felt bad for Harry as he trudged his way up to her. "Never—in all my time at Hogwarts…" she continued to stutter, and then she ordered him to follow her. Parvati and Ron tried to reason with her, but she hushed them and soon they were out of sight. Hermione might have thought he was amazing, but that didn't change the fact that he'd broken the rules. She could only hope he wasn't going to be expelled. She'd actually started to take a liking to him, after all. She liked the fact that even though people gawked at him every time he walked through the halls, he wouldn't let himself get a big head about it. He was a hard worker who wanted to be acknowledged for something he'd done purposefully, and not something he'd done as a baby without any idea what was going on. It was something she admired in him. He didn't talk much, where she talked a lot. But still…she had liked getting to know him.

Class was dismissed, and everyone began to leave. She decided she would go and visit Neville to see if he'd been fixed up yet and how long it would be before he could go back to class. As she started her walk, though, Malfoy and his loyal lapdogs blocked her path. "Crabbe. Goyle. You can go eat lunch. I need a word with Granger." They nodded and left with one snicker at her. He waited until they were gone to look at her again, not surprised she'd crossed her arms and was now glaring at him. "Well, wasn't that exciting?" he grinned. "The Toadless Wonder broke his wrist and lost his stupid ball, and now Potter's going to be expelled for breaking the rules. It would have been lovely if he'd actually broken his neck trying to be some sort of hero. Who does he think he is, anyway?"

Hermione stood tall as she spoke up. "His name is _Neville_, not the Toadless Wonder. And for your information, he is no longer toadless. He found it thanks to Hagrid. And what is _wrong _with you?!" she snapped, nearly making him jump at her sudden change in demeanor. "I can understand a bit of healthy competition, but this? You were _trying _to get him expelled! Are you that big of a coward that you have to get rid of him? As for who he is, he is a wizard. A bloody talented wizard at that, seeing as he flies better than you and that was his first time on a broom. He really could have hurt himself and it would have been all your fault. How _dare _you try to hurt a fellow student? You take others' property and try to destroy it. You laugh at someone for getting seriously hurt. You are a _horrible_ person! What kind of parents could raise such a stupid, spoiled brat?!"

"I'd advise against speaking about my parents, Granger." His tone had gone from taunting to deadly, and she had picked up on it. "You have _no _idea what my home life is like."

She narrowed her gaze at him then and said, "You're right. I don't. But I have a sneaking feeling it's a broken household." Now he stared at her. "I suppose you're being torn between what your mother thinks is right verses what your father has taught you to believe. After all, if both of your parents were horrible, you'd be a lot crueler than you are right now."

"What are you going on about?" he spat. "You think I'm soft, do you?"

"No, far from that," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You're just not…how do I put it…" She was actually being thoughtful instead of arguing now, something he had picked up on quite easily. "In the library, you told me we weren't going to be doing anything drastic. You told me it was nothing to worry about."

"How does that have to do with anything? You were being a prude and it was annoying."

"But you still did it," she said. "Perhaps you didn't realize it, but you were actually trying to comfort me in your own twisted way, for whatever reason. A truly evil person would taunt me and tell me all sorts of ways I could get hurt, and maybe even threaten to dangle me upside down until I passed out." Where the bloody hell was she getting all of this from? "I would know. Trust me…" There was something about her just then that made Draco actually look at her. Not her blood. Not her bushy hair. Just…her. She seemed rather out of it for a moment, and then she was back. "Stop trying so hard to impress everybody," she said, and the way she was looking at him and talking to him…it almost reminded him of his mother. "I think if you just be yourself, people will like you better. And that way, maybe people will respect you out of admiration rather than fear. It can't be fun, keeping up such a façade. And it's quite irritating for the lot of us who have to subject to it." Then she walked away, leaving a stunned Draco where he stood. Had she just told him it would be better to just be himself…?

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Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! I'm sorry it seems a bit shorter than my other chapters. The next one should be longer. Please don't forget to send me your thoughts! I would really appreciate them.


	6. Chapter 6: Happy Halloween

**~Perfect Harmony~**

Disclaimer: I promise you, I do not own Harry Potter.

I'm skipping a few parts to help the story progress further. I hope you all don't mind. If it does bother you, send me a message and I'll add them in.

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**~Happy Halloween~**

Much had happened since the Remembrall incident. Malfoy had gotten nastier, setting up a midnight duel with Harry and Ron that he fully intended to ditch. When Hermione had tried to stop them, she ended up getting locked out of the common room and had to follow them, stumbling upon a poor Neville who'd been sleeping out in the hall because he couldn't remember the password [perhaps that was what he'd forgotten when he held the Remembrall that morning] and nearly getting caught by Filch who obviously knew they would be there. No doubt Malfoy had tipped him off about their appearance. It caused them to get stuck in the very corridor Professor Dumbledore had forbidden them to run into, and for good reason. There was a huge, black three-headed mongrel in there on top of a small trap door. It had definitely been guarding something that Hermione wasn't the least bit curious about…well, honestly, she was _extremely_ curious about it, but she wasn't going to let them know that. And the next day, she vowed never to speak to them again. She was tired of their antics. She would much rather spend her time with people who were friendly to her than with people who didn't even like her and nearly got er killed. Unfortunately, there weren't many.

To top it all off, Harry secretly got made a Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team for showing he had skill when Malfoy had thrown the Remembrall. It infuriated her that he was getting _rewarded_ for breaking the rules. True, she didn't want him to get expelled. She may not be very fond of them at the moment, but he didn't deserve to get expelled for doing something for someone else. At the same time, he didn't deserve to be rewarded for going against what Madam Hooch had told them to do. And she'd told them so, completely forgetting her vow to not speak to them until Ron had rudely reminded her.

Lately, Hermione had needed some place to go to be alone. She needed privacy away from peering eyes, or she was going to break. Some days, she was close to tears, and she didn't want anyone to see. She'd found a nice little alcove near the lake that no one seemed to know about, so she'd escaped there during her free periods instead of the library. She'd stop by the library, grab some books she'd wanted to read, and would make her way down to the lake where she'd read until it was time for class again, or for dinner. But sometimes, she wouldn't even feel like reading. So she would sit there staring at her reflection in the water, wondering what it was about her that made people hate her so much. Harry and Ron didn't seem to like her company. Neville was sometimes a bit of a bother, and he was usually busy getting himself into yet another predicament. Percy the prefect was busy with his duties, and he wasn't very much company in the first place. Sometimes she'd catch the twins and they would have a bit of fun together. But they were in a different year with a different schedule, so she didn't see them much. Even troublemakers had something to do. So there she would sit, all by herself. When had she become so…alone?

* * *

Draco Malfoy was beside himself. Every attempt he'd made to get rid of Harry Potter had failed miserably and been thrown right back into his face. He'd even managed to get Potter privileges. Seeker? A first year? And on top of that, he got his very own _Nimbus Two-Thousand_?! This place that he at first had been so excited about was really starting to spiral downward. He was getting outwitted by a mudblood. He was losing popularity to the scar head. Even that stupid Weasley was having more fun than he was. Where had he gone wrong?

He _was_ happy to say almost every Slytherin had befriended him. Well, he wasn't sure 'befriend' was the right word. They knew he was a Malfoy and that's what got him attention. He loved being in charge of his year. Some of the girls, especially that Parkinson girl, were very fond of him and he'd heard a rumor that they'd started a fan club for him. It was empowering. He wasn't used to so much attention in his life, for his father was always cold and busy. The only one he'd gotten any real attention from was his mother.

That was always the trigger for ruining his mood. His mother was the only one who actually cared about who he was. These Slytherins just wanted to be associated with the Malfoy name. And the rest of the school, knowing he was in charge because he was a Malfoy, despised him. He'd created a reputation of being high and mighty, and so he knew he'd have to keep up appearances or else relinquish his power. His father would have his head if that were to happen.

He remembered that Granger again. She had told him to be himself. No one had ever told him to do that, not even his mother. He wondered if it were a muggle thing, telling people to always be honest and expressive. But many of the other muggleborns seemed to follow the crowd and do what they did. Hermione Granger, though? Who exactly was she? He vaguely wondered if she actually followed her own advice, just being who she really was, or if she kept up a façade as well. She always seemed the same bossy, snippy little know-it-all in classes he had with her, but there were times when he'd see her in the halls by herself and she just seemed like a lonely girl. Was she lonely? He shook the thought away. He didn't care. He really didn't care.

Halloween came and here they were in Charms with Professor Flitwick. Everyone was pleased to hear that they would finally be learning how to levitate things. They've wanted to ever since Professor Flitwick sent Trevor the toad whizzing throughout the room. "I will be putting you all into pairs," the short, flighty man informed them. He went on to explain that they would help each other try to levitate a feather on their table. "Mr. Potter, please sit next to Mr. Finnigan." Hermione watched them move together, feeling slightly sorry for Neville who'd been wanting Harry for himself.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, she tried to console him. "It'll be alright, Neville. Besides, it's best you not be with him. He just seems to get everyone else in trouble. It's rather selfish, really."

"Ms. Granger, please work with Mr. Weasley." Was this supposed to be funny? She turned to glare at the red-head, who returned it tenfold. Everyone seemed to sense the tension in the room, because they began to scoot away. No one knew who was angrier to be paired with the other.

Professor Flitwick, however, seemed oblivious. "And finally, Mr. Malfoy, would you be so kind as to work with Mr. Zabini?" Draco, who had been staring at the formerly announced pair in curiosity, looked over and nodded at Blaise, who already happened to be sitting next to him. He found it hilarious that both Crabbe and Goyle were paired. They were likely to get nothing done, whatsoever.

"Hello, Malfoy."

"Zabini."They weren't on the first name basis, but most in Slytherin weren't, no matter how good of friends they seemed to be. The girls were a little more open about it, though, Draco supposed.

Professor Flitwick was telling them the incantation and going over the wrist movement, and then he told them to try it on their own. "Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing! Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick!"

Draco rolled his eyes, sharing an amused look with Blaise. "Shall I go or should you?" Blaise asked.

Draco shrugged. "You go first." So he swished and flicked, but nothing happened. He tried again, and this time the feather moved about a centimeter before dropping back down. "Well, that's the general idea. Just keep trying."

Harry was watching Seamus Finnigan swishing and flicking, but nothing was happening. Finally, Finnigan began prodding it, saying the incantation ferociously. Before anyone could say anything to him, his feather was set on fire and everyone stared. "I think we're going to need a new feather, Professor."

Not far, Ron was impatiently growling the incantation and swirling his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he cried over and over again.

Finally, Hermione had enough. "You're doing it wrong!" she snapped, loud enough for everyone in the room to stop and look at her. "It's win-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long." She didn't try to correct his wrist movements, as it would be wasted breath.

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron growled. To everyone else in the room, they sort of seemed like an old married couple bickering.

Hermione was suddenly very aware of many eyes on her and Ron, including Malfoy. Well, if they were going to watch, she would be happy to demonstrate how it ought to be done. After all, she'd cast this spell many times in her room while tidying up. So she rolled up her sleeves, cleared her throat and raised her wand. With a swish and flick that made Professor Flitwick smile, she spoke. "Wingardium Leviosa!" Instantly, her feather floated gracefully into the sky effortlessly, and she couldn't contain her triumphant smile.

Professor Flitwick applauded gleefully, exclaiming, "Oh, well done! Everyone see here, Ms. Granger's done it!" Everyone was silent. No one cheered. She could only focus long enough to set the feather back down, and then she stayed very still. Everyone got back to practicing, as though she hadn't been the very first to accomplish the spell. She felt more alone than ever before.

Draco Malfoy hated her. He really did. She thought she was so bloody brilliant just because she could make a feather float in the air? Angrily, he snapped, "Let me have a go, Zabini." He whipped out his wand and performed the swish and flick, saying, "Wingardium Leviosa." His feather shot into the air just as perfectly as the mudbloods had, and he received a very loud cheer from his fellow Slytherin house. With a smug look, he set it back down and looked over at the bushy haired girl. But the look he received hadn't been what he'd expected. He'd expected a glare, a challenge, anything but what he saw: a defeated, sad girl with a small smile of congratulations before she looked away. What was that all about?

* * *

Hermione was close to breaking, and she knew it. No one liked her. More people liked Malfoy than they did her, and she hadn't done anything but read her books and answer questions in class. She was trying hard to keep her head held high, but as she neared Ron and Harry to tell Ron he had done a good job in class to be nice, she overheard him speaking to Harry about her. "It's no wonder no one can stand her. She's a nightmare, honestly."

That was it. That was all it took to trigger it. She could feel the tears threatening to burst from her eyes. She couldn't let anyone see her like this. And so, she rushed past them to the closest bathroom there was. She accidentally knocked into Harry as she did so, but she couldn't look back and risk him seeing her. Already people were asking questions. She thought she might have heard one of the twins close by, but she pressed on until she'd reached the girl's bathroom and pushed the door open fiercely. One look around showed her that no one was there, and so she fell to her knees and began to sob.

So it was true. People honestly couldn't stand her, could they? She should have expected as much. To think things would be different here than they were back at her other schools. No matter whether you were a muggle or a witch or wizard, people were still the same as they'd always been: bullies. Just because someone tried harder than you, they get labeled as bossy or geeky or conceited. Bossy, she may be, but it was only because she was trying her best to help everyone else around her. She never meant to be bossy. That's just how she came across, and she couldn't help it, and when she's excited she loves to talk about things she knew about whatever topic had come up. Was it so wrong to want to know things instead of being kept in the dark? She was tired of keeping up appearances. She was growing tired of being picked on for being smart. She was tired of being humiliated for practicing so she didn't make a fool of herself in class.

"Hermione?" She whipped her head around to see Parvati Patil from her own house.

She panicked. Someone had seen her. Now it would be all over the school that Hermione Granger, the bookworm know-it-all who thought she was so much better than everyone else, had been crying shamelessly in the bathroom. "Get out! Just leave me be for once, why don't you?!"

Parvati ran out, fearing for her life. She probably thought Hermione would hex her if she hadn't done so. Great. Now Hermione wasn't just a bossy, conceited know-it-all. She was a bossy, conceited know-it-all with anger issues. What more could go wrong?

* * *

Harry Potter was growing weary. Hermione hadn't shown up for classes all afternoon, and it just wasn't like her. He'd seen her crying when she bumped into him. That wasn't like her, either. Something told him that she'd been having a harder time than they thought she had. Sudden guilt was washing over him, and he didn't like it. He realized he'd been treating her somewhat how the Dursley's had treated him: like a nuisance they couldn't get rid of. It was more of Ron, who seemed to love putting her down, but Harry never stepped in to say anything and that was his own fault. He never meant to hurt the poor girl. He just hoped she would be alright. He'd heard Parvati telling Lavender Brown that Hermione had been crying in the bathroom and made her get out. Ron seemed to have heard it, too, because the rest of the day he was on edge. Apparently, it was Ron's first time making someone this upset, too.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was anxious. Nervous. Worried. He was a lot of things right now, but he was doing his best to pull it together. Where was the bloody mudblood? She wasn't in any of her classes, and he'd been sure she had been crying earlier in the halls on the way out of Charms class. No doubt it had to do with the response she'd gotten. He faintly remembered hearing the Weasley call her a nightmare. Perhaps that's what triggered it.

He was passing the Weasley twins as well as that Lavender Brown girl in the halls on his way to the lake when he overheard them talking about her. So he hid behind the wall and eavesdropped.

"We saw Hermione crying in the halls earlier, but when we called after her she just ignored us," said one twin.

The other chimed in. "Yeah, and we're pretty loud, so it wasn't like she didn't hear us."

In perfect sync, they asked, "So, do you know anything about our darling Gryffindor princess?"

It was a bit peculiar that they referred to her in that way, but as Brown began to speak, his thoughts were put on hold. "Parvati told me she's been crying in the girl's lavatory. When Parvati went in, Hermione screamed at her to get out and that she wanted to be alone. She's extremely upset."

So he hadn't been hallucinating. He'd actually seen Granger crying. Was she really this weak minded, crying just because people didn't like you? Not that he would know anything about that. He had his entire house behind him. He'd never been bullied, and he had no intention of ever being bullied. He couldn't imagine what it was like for her. He wondered vaguely if she'd been bullied before coming here. Then he went off to the Halloween feast.

* * *

Harry's mind had been clouded with guilt all day, as had Ron's, but when they entered the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, everything went away to be replaced with delight. Live bats decorated the ceiling and walls, fluttering down every now and then. Carved pumpkins held small, lit candles and were scattered down every table neatly. When everyone was gathered—well, most anyway—the food appeared on golden plates just like they had their first night. "This is great," Harry grinned from ear to ear, helping himself to everything in sight. He still wasn't used to being able to eat whatever he wanted.

Draco was just about to take a drink of his Pumpkin juice when the nutty Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher ran in, stumbling his way up to the High Table. "Troll! In the dungeons! Just thought you…ought to…know…"and then he feinted.

For one moment, everyone stared in silence, and then in a split second, everyone was screaming and scrambling to escape. Dozens of purple firecrackers shot into the air, followed by the bellowing voice of Albus Dumbledore. "Prefects, lead your houses back to their dormitories immediately!"

Everyone filed out fearfully, trying to calm down. Harry and Ron followed Percy out nervously. Halfway down the hall, however, Harry grabbed Ron's arm. "Hermione!"

Ron was confused. He'd completely forgotten she existed. "What about her?"

"She doesn't know about the troll," Harry said, nearly hitting Ron for being so careless. They rushed off to rescue her, unaware of a certain blonde following close behind.

Hermione stood in the stall, taking deep breaths. The Halloween feast was probably about to be finished. She hadn't realized she'd been in here so long. If she didn't hurry, she would miss the meal and would have to go hungry. It wasn't a big deal if she missed one meal, but she wanted to see the decorations at least. She could just sit by Fred and George. They were the only two that seemed to really enjoy her company.

* * *

She wiped her tears as she exited the stall, intent on wiping her face in the sink, but something wasn't right…As she looked up, she realized what it was. "AH!"

She dodged the giant wooden club by inches, ducking and running to the door, only to find that it was locked. What?! This was not the time! She was about to whip out her wand to unlock it when she noticed the troll advancing on her. She had no choice but to run to the other side against the wall, ducking and screaming as it swung at her, knocking over sinks and stalls as it did so. Could this day get _any_ worse?

Suddenly, the door swung open and in ran Harry and Ron, the two people she had least expected to come to her aid. What were they doing here, and how did they know she was here in the first place? There was a point in time when she realized they were boys in the girl's bathroom, but it hardly mattered at the moment. Actually, she barely registered Harry tugging on her, telling her to run. She was too in shock to move, and became nothing more than dead weight. She watched as they distracted the large, ugly creature. It had a long snout and bright green skin that vaguely reminded Hermione of the Hulk, and it was rather slow and stupid.

When Harry jumped on his back, she nearly screamed in fright once more. Why was he always doing things like this for people, risking his life? As the troll tried to thrash him off, she realized he'd accidently shoved his wand up the troll's nostril. That…was utterly disgusting. And then she heard "Wingardium Leviosa" and watched the troll's club float higher and higher in the air…and then fall straight onto the troll's skull with a sickening thud. The troll stumbled for a moment, and then fell straight at her feet. She looked up to see Ron's pale face. He seemed just as scared as she had been, and yet he'd been able to use the charm successfully for the first time to save her. Maybe they cared more than she thought they had.

Hermione was the first to say anything. "Is it dead?"

Harry shook his head. "I think it's just knocked out." He went to pull his wand out, and she nearly vomited from the stench as well as the thought of troll snot being on her own wand. She would definitely be owing these two for saving her life, she knew that much.

Before either of them had a chance to recuperate, in came running Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell. Quirrell had to sit on the toilet so he didn't pass out from the sight of the troll once more, Snape was staring daggers at Harry, and McGonagall was more furious than either of them had ever seen her before. Hermione knew instantly what she would be doing to pay them both back, but first she had to get to her feet.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" McGonagall snapped. You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitories?" Hermione had slowly been getting feeling back in her legs, and as she started to stand she noticed Ron still had his wand in the air. Really, Ron?

Clearing her throat, she began to walk towards them, crying out, "Please, Professor McGonagall! They were looking for me."

McGonagall whipped her head to face Hermione, noticing the tiny figure for the first time since entering the destroyed bathroom. "Ms. Granger!"

"I went looking for the troll because I…I thought I could deal with it on my own. You know, because I've read all about them." It was difficult for her, lying to a teacher, but when Ron dropped his wand in shock, she decided it was well worth it. "If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived." She hung her head as McGonagall began lecturing her about how foolish she was, but she gave a small wink to the boys who were trying very hard to act as though her story were true. She had five points taken from Gryffindor, and then she was dismissed. She nodded towards Harry and Ron before rushing out.

Halfway to the dormitory, someone grabbed her arm. It was Malfoy. "Are you mad?!" he hissed. "Because you were being a big baby, you almost got killed. Do you realize how _stupid_ you are?"

Hermione was shocked at first, but then she couldn't help but smile, throwing him off entirely. She was too happy to get upset. Besides, this was the first time anyone had called her stupid before. She quite liked it, to be honest. "I was a bit childish, wasn't I? Thank you, though," she added, confusing him even further. "You followed to make sure I was okay, so thank you. Does this mean you're going to start being more truthful with yourself, or are you going to go back to pretending to hate me?"

"Pretending?" he gaped. "I don't need to pretend, Granger. I hate you. I just thought I'd go and take it out on my own. I was just waiting until the last minute. Waited a bit too long, I suppose. Well, I'd better be going. I don't need your bad luck tainting me, after all." He strode past her back to his house, but Hermione had a feeling she'd secretly gotten one step closer to figuring out the blonde aristocrat boy. The school year had just gotten much more interesting.

Draco walked back quickly, keeping to the walls so he wasn't caught. What had gotten into him all of a sudden? She smiles at him and he goes all…all…whatever the word was that explained how he was feeling? He had been genuinely scared for her, too. He wouldn't admit it to her, but he really wanted to jump in and help save her. He didn't want Potter and the Weasel to see him, though. Imagine what people would think if he got all chummy with a group of Gryffindors? It wouldn't sit well, and there'd be questions.

Speaking of questions, his mind went back to hers: _Does this mean you're going to start being more truthful with yourself, or are you going to go back to pretending to hate me? _Had he been pretending? Things were becoming complicated. He wasn't able to tell his true feelings from his façade anymore. What would his mother say? He needed her. Suddenly, he willed Christmas break to come soon. Very, very soon.

* * *

I hope you're all enjoying this! Please leave your reviews and whatnot and let me know what you think. Thank you for reading! 3


	7. Chapter 7: Quidditch Curses

**~Perfect Harmony~**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I really wish I didn't have to keep repeating myself. :/ Oh well…

A/N: I am so so sorry for not having posted in the last few days! I was away for the weekend with some friends and every time I sat down to write this, I kept getting distracted. Please don't hate me!

Please don't forget to write your reviews! They'd help a lot! Thank you.

**~Quidditch Curses~**

It was November, and there was a certain chill in the air. Hermione, Ron, and Harry had been sitting outside during one of their free periods; Hermione had conjured a small fire in a jar for them to keep warm when Professor Snape decided to rear his greasy head. He'd confiscated Harry's book, saying some rubbish about library books not being permitted outside of the school and taking five points from Gryffindor before limping away. They had all been curious about that. Harry and Ron had informed Hermione about Snape's leg, saying they'd seen a huge gash on it the night the troll was let in. It couldn't have been coincidence, and they wanted to get to the bottom of it. They just weren't sure how without getting caught.

Later that afternoon, Harry stood in the common room and said, "I'm going to go get it back. He wouldn't be so harsh as to keep it from me when there are other teachers in there, right?"

Both Ron and Hermione shrugged their shoulders and said in unison, "Better you than me." They watched Harry walk off before looking at each other and shaking their heads. "He's not going to get it back," Ron mumbled before turning to go talk to Lee Jordan about the Quidditch game tomorrow between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Hermione couldn't help but think about Malfoy and Harry, both. She really didn't want to deal with Malfoy being a prat, especially since he wasn't actually a prat to begin with. He was just a stupid, scared little blonde-haired boy who didn't feel like competing with the famous Harry Potter and getting himself humiliated. She was happy, though, that he wasn't planning any new tricks to get Harry expelled anymore. Now he had resorted to name calling and verbal bullying, and he could only really do that in the halls and whatnot.

"Hello there, little lady," came two voice perfectly in sync on either side of her. As they sat on the couch beside her they blocked her eyes with their hands, and she grinned and closed her book.

"Fred. George."

"Right you are!" They applauded her and let her see again, much to her appreciation. "Always got that cute little nose of yours stuck in a book, I see," said Fred.

George chuckled and added, "Your head'll really explode if you keep trying to fill it up with things such as…" He hunched over and turned his head to look at her book, reading, "Ancient Runes of the 16th century. Seriously, how do you enjoy sitting and reading this stuff? It would give me a headache, it would."

Fred playfully hit his twin, saying, "Oh, let her be, mate. She can't help it if her bookworm senses start tingling every time she's in the vicinity of the library. She's addicted, the poor girl. We really should put you in rehab for it, you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they draped an arm each over her shoulders and asked, "I'm guessing you've watched Spider-Man, possibly thanks to your father."

"Right you are!" they said once more. "Dad's in love with muggle superheroes," said George.

"Especially those with insect qualities," added Fred.

Then they both said, "But his favorites are Batman and Robin, because they don't have any powers. Just their heads and their will to protect people less fortunate."

Ron came back over, eyeing his twin brothers with skepticism. He still hadn't completely forgiven them for giving him that fake spell Hermione's witnessed on the train. "Ah, here comes the little brother. He fancies you, I bet," said George. They ran away as Ron swatted at them.

"They're a couple of troublemakers, I tell you," he hissed. "Can't trust them at all. The moment you do, you're done for."

"Oh, come off it," she rolled her eyes, pulling him down to sit back down beside her where Fred had previously been. "They're just having a bit of fun. Besides, I'm sure everyone knows not to take them too seriously. You're the only one that falls for their tricks, so you deserve it."

As Ron opened his mouth to defend himself, Harry came back in looking sick. Hurriedly, he sat beside them and spoke in a hushed whisper. "Snape was speaking to Filch and showing him the gash on his leg, and he started talking about the three-headed dog on the third floor." Both she and Ron gasped. Harry was panting, she just realized. He must have run all the way back up. "You know what this means. He tried to get past the three-headed dog at Halloween. That's where he was going when we saw him. He's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in to make a diversion."

Hermione was beside herself. "No, he wouldn't!"

Ron groaned and told her not all teachers were good teachers. "But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?" They all looked at each other, and it was then that Hermione decided she was going to get to the bottom of it. She knew instantly that she would be breaking the rules once again. She had no idea at the time what she would be getting herself into.

Draco Malfoy sat on the window sill, using the moonlight so he could see what he was writing on his roll of parchment. Everyone else had fallen fast asleep, but he found that he could not. So he was up writing his thoughts to his mother. Hopefully she would get it whilst his father was at work, and his father wouldn't know a thing. His father never usually looked into his things, respecting his privacy. It was one thing Lucius Malfoy was good about, not invading his privacy. Once finished, he lifted it to the light and read:

_Dear Mum,_

_Something weird is going on with me. Do you remember the mudblood girl I spoke to you about earlier, the one with the powerful wand and the annoying ability to know just about everything the teachers taught us?_

_Well, I never really mentioned this to you, but she keeps getting stuck in my head. I mean, father has always said we are superior and stronger because we have pure blood, but she's got more nerve and intelligence than the entire first year class, and quite possibly half the school. And that isn't all…_

_She seems to be able to read me like an open book, when I thought I'd been doing a fairly wonderful job of keeping my façade. It's weird, because she's picked up on what home is like. It was after our first flying lesson. At first she was really mad at me…I won't get into why right now. But she was mad, and she was scolding me like some prude. And then she told me that I probably lived in a house where I was, as she put it, 'torn between what your mother thinks is right and what your father has taught you to believe.' She said she found that likely because something about me seemed to not be as evil and cruel as I could be._

_And she told me it was better to just be myself. I don't get it. Even you have taught me to keep my composure around certain people and that there are times when I have a role to play. Her, though? She says things like 'be yourself' and 'people will admire you rather than fear you'. And then, something happened during Halloween…it was strange._

_Well, I really should be getting to bed. It's past midnight, and I want to have enough energy to cheer on Slytherin. We have our first Quidditch match tomorrow against Gryffindor. I hope Potter gets his butt kicked! Go Slytherin!_

_With love,_

_Your son, Draco _

He read it over again, making sure he'd gotten everything he wanted to in there. He would talk to her more on the matter when Christmas came up. He rolled up the parchment, set it on his bedside table, and slipped into bed, falling asleep within moments of laying his head on his pillow. That night, he dreamt a very peculiar dream. When he awoke, he didn't remember a thing.

Hermione yawned and stretched in her four-poster bed, ready to take on the day. Today was the Quidditch match, and she knew Harry was very nervous about it. This meant she'd have to console him and make sure he ate, even if she had to shove it down his throat. Even knowing this, she was very excited. While she may not enjoy being on a broom herself, watching Harry every so often made her happy. She never saw him quite as alive as when he was on his broom. It was something she longed for, which is why she was always stuck in her books. She loved learning. It gave her a joy she couldn't find elsewhere. It never quite fulfilled her, though. It just helped her escape reality for awhile, and imagine what it would be like to really feel alive.

She was right. All the way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry looked pale, and when they sat down, he just picked at his food that she'd put on his plate after he refused to do it himself. He was really being quite childish, although she couldn't blame him. She'd read about the sport awhile back and that was partially what had made her afraid of flying in the first place, other than her acrophobia. "You needn't worry about the bludgers, Harry," she said, thinking that was his problem. "After all, you've got Fred and George to block them. They're like a pair of human bludgers themselves, if you think about it." Harry mumbled something about Oliver Wood, who she'd met on the train and who also happened to be the Quidditch captain, saying the exact same thing. She'd finally had enough of him acting childish. "You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

Waving some toast in his face, she groaned. "Just a bit of toast."

"I'm not hungry."

Surprisingly, Seamus stepped in to help, and Hermione had hope that together they could get him to at least take a bite of his food. "Harry, you need your strength." She was looking quite triumphant. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team." In a second, her hopes of getting Harry to eat anything were dashed.

"Thanks, Seamus," Harry said breathlessly. Great. Now he was even _more _nervous than he had been before, and she hadn't even thought it were possible. She was just hoping he wouldn't get sick and fall of his broom mid-game.

Draco Malfoy watched the Granger girl from across the Hall trying to feed the scar head as she rubbed his shoulder, and he couldn't help but glare deadly in their direction. Part of him wondered if she could feel it, because it would please him greatly to watch her squirm under his gaze. It would give him a sense of control. As he thought this, though, Blaise sat beside him and glanced at what he was staring at. "Potter looks a bit sick, don't you think?"

Turning to the food on his plate once more, Draco shrugged. "Good. Let him. I hope he falls off his broom and has to be taken to the Hospital Wing for a few days. Or weeks. Or months. Or just transfer him to St. Mungo's for the rest of his life for all I care." With that said, he began to rip into his sausages with his teeth with all the aggression he could muster.

"Malfoy…are you alright?" Draco stopped eating so savagely then. What had he been thinking? He'd just expressed emotion, while it may have been vile emotion, in public. "You seem a bit more…how shall I put it? Angry today. You don't want people to see you like that, do you?"

With a sigh, Draco laid his sausage down on his plate and nodded. "Thanks for that. I don't know what got into me."

"Perhaps it was lack of sleep?" Draco's head snapped up in shock, but Blaise seemed to have expected this reaction as he continued to explain. "I was having a few sleeping problems myself last night, and then I saw you move to sit on the window sill with some parchment and ink. What exactly _were_ you writing? You seemed to be going on for days."

Draco secretly thought, _You wouldn't believe me if I told you._ He merely shrugged, however, and continued to eat his food silently and with much better etiquette than he had a few moments ago. He didn't notice the weird look Blaise was giving him before he, too, returned his focus to breakfast.

"And she's really belting along up there…a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve…back to Johnson and—no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle…Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes…Flint flying like an eagle up there…he's going to sc—no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle…that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there…nice dive around Flint…off up the field and…OUCH! That must've hurt, hit in the back of the head with a Bludger…Quaffle taken by the Slytherins…That's Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goal posts, but he blocked by a second Bludger—sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which…nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes…she's really flying…dodges a speeding Bludger…the goal posts are ahead…come on, now, Angelina…Keeper Bletchley dives—misses—GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Hermione and Ron jumped up and down in the stands, screaming along with the rest of their fellow housemates. Hermione was half tempted to stick her tongue out at all those arrogant Slytherins, one in particular, but resisted. She was having the time of her life, having never been to anything like this in her life. She watched Harry circling up high above all the chaos like a hawk, searching eagerly for the Snitch. She spent most of the game glancing from him back to the action down below, but halfway through, she noticed something strange. Harry's broom began to twitch. Slowly, the crowd, too, began to notice and started to point upwards. As soon as Hagrid mentioned Dark Magic being the only thing that could interfere with a broom, she asked for the binoculars and instantly started searching for a certain suspicious teacher.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, taking the binoculars away from her face and handing it to Ron. "Snape—look! He's doing something…jinxing it!" She was thinking very hard, but when Ron muttered about what they were going to do, she suddenly got a brilliant idea. "Leave it to me!" And she was off.

Draco Malfoy was staring at the boy with the lightning scar as his broom went wildly out of control. All around him, Slytherins were snickering and talking about how stupid he looked, and he felt the need to join in. "Poor Pothead," he sniggered. "Looks as though his own broom doesn't like him much, either, does it?" Everyone laughed, and he felt a sense of power roll into his court, so he snatched it. "The famous boy who lived will soon be the famous boy who lost control of his own bloody broom! Maybe he'll fall out of the sky, his little friends will have heart attacks, and they'll all do the world a favor and fall of the face of the earth."

As he finished, however, it seemed that the Pothead had regained control _and_ caught sight of the Snitch, and was going after it at lightning speed. "Blast it all," he murmured under his breath in a snarl of hatred. Crabbe and Goyle were behind him, still talking about the broom in which they had failed to realize was cooperating once more, but Blaise was right next to the Malfoy. He still remembered Malfoy's earlier behavior. It wasn't like a Malfoy to be so openly aggressive. Assertive, yes, but not aggressive to the point where everyone could read you like a book. They were usually cold and distant, and somehow he felt as though this Malfoy was different.

_Perhaps it's thanks to his mother,_ Blaise thought to himself. He remembered her well. Their mother's had been best friends since he could remember, and Narcissa Malfoy was always quite sweet. Funny at times, too. He didn't think she had a bad bone in her body, which is why he wondered how she got stuck being a Malfoy. She'd always been adamant about expressing one's feelings, although he knew she couldn't around her own family. It wasn't fair in his opinion, but fair wasn't a word when it came to the dark pureblood families.

Turning his attention back to the game, he was surprised to see Potter on the ground…puking gold? No…that was…

"I've got the Snitch!" Potter shouted, waving it in his hand with the biggest grin on his face. Blaise scowled. He may not have anything against the boy himself, but he wasn't going to act like it didn't irk him to lose to his house rival on the first game of the year.

It had been a week since the game, and things had finally began to settle down. Well…sort of. Draco was becoming more and more convinced that the Golden Trio had were up to something. Granger was constantly dragging the boys to the library, searching through books that didn't seem the least bit interesting to them. They could be researching for some project, but he doubted it. Pothead and Weaselbee wouldn't just sit and research when they could be off playing Wizard's Chess or talking about Quidditch. Or eating. The weasel loved to eat, that much was clear, and that scar head could take his fill, as well. So what had they been up to?

A letter had come into him that morning, and he was happy to see that his mother had finally gotten back to him. He wouldn't open it right away at the table where anyone could see. So he stealthily slipped it into his bag and went on about his meal. Potions with the Gryffindors was the same as always, except for the urge to read his letter burning inside of him. He kept glancing at Granger, but he made sure to only really do so when everyone else was. After all, she only raised her hand in the air like a maniac every five seconds. Although…he did pick up on the fact that she seemed a bit cold when answering. It was as if she held some grudge against him and other than Snape being a mean, old bat, Draco couldn't see what she could hold against him.

Free period couldn't have come any sooner. As soon as it hit, he made his way out to the alcove by the lake. By the time he'd gotten there, he already had his bag open and his hand clutching the letter tightly as though it would fly away if he didn't. He dropped his bag and opened the letter open in his haste, his palms sweaty and his hands shaking. With a racing heart and a slight fear of what his mother had said, he gently pulled the letter from its envelope and began to read:

_My darling son,_

_First let me tell you how truly sorry I am that I have not written any sooner. I have been so busy getting the house ready for a ball your father insists I throw so he may secretly have a meeting with certain employees of his. I've wanted to write for so long but I didn't dare write to you about something like this when he could see._

_Now, about Ms. Granger. Do not use that word. I know you must do so around your father and your Slytherin peers as to keep up appearances, but as I have told you, I will not tolerate it even if you don't mean it degradingly. Use 'muggleborn' as that is what they are. _

_I must say, however, Draco, I am quite shocked. Do not think we will not be having a little chat whilst your stay during Christmas. You must tell me all about this and how it came about. I'm quite thrilled, honestly, that you've met someone like this Granger girl. She seems to have a nice head on her shoulders, and she seems to have strong intuition abilities._

_I cannot tell you how right she is, my son. To be yourself is to be strong instead of hiding in the shadows. In being yourself, you will surely have a much better life than hiding and becoming a tool for your father to do with as he pleases. However, this is also where she is wrong. She does not understand everything we deal with in our daily lives. She understands not the role we must play, and the consequences that will take place if we do not abide by this. I am sorry, dear. I wish to tell you it is alright to express yourself. I truly wish it were that simple, but as long as your father remains as he is, it is unsafe for you to express yourself around anyone other than those you truly trust. _

_On a happier note, Cassandra Zabini says her son seems quite fond of you from the letters he writes. I must say, Blaise is a good boy. He does not completely believe in all the rubbish your father has instilled in you. Perhaps you two will make a good pair of friends. Let me know what you think, and if anything concerning the Granger girl happens, keep it in your mind until I next see you. I await you eagerly, my lovely boy._

_Forever with love,_

_Your loving mother_

Draco read this over again…and then again. So his mother agrees with Granger about it being healthier to be himself, but she still believes he needs to keep up appearances in public. He could not express how confused he was to anyone, for it had gone beyond that point. He was beyond confused. He had no idea what his mother wanted him to do.

Just as he thought about this, he heard footsteps. _No one's ever come around here before…_He was in the middle of planning his escape when he noticed a tuft of bushy brown hair. _Granger…?_ Of course it would be Granger to find his sanctuary. He noticed too late that these thoughts distracted him and he was soon staring at the shocked face of Hermione Granger, letter still in his hand as he stood frozen in place.

She stared from him to the parchment he held, squinting as though she could actually read it. "Why are you writing your mother about me?"

She could actually read it?! "What do you have, super vision or something?" slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He should have denied what she'd seen. What had he just done? Embarrassed, he sneered and hastily stashed the letter into his bag. "Whatever, Granger. How did you find this place, anyway?"

"For your information, Malfoy," she retorted. "I found this place towards the beginning of this year, when I was trying to look for some place to get away from people like you. Apparently, this place is no longer valid, so I'll be on my way now. Good day to you."

Before she could get too far, Draco found himself asking, "Why do you do that?" She looked at him then, quite confused. He realized then that he had to keep going, and he thought, _Well, this is awkward. _"You treat me as if I'm the most horrible person you've ever met, and then the next time we meet you act as though you know so much about me and actually try to have a decent conversation with me."

She stared at him for a moment longer before slowly responding. "I do it because I can't stand someone who can't be true to themselves. You're always putting up this façade like you're the bad guy, so I'm inclined to treat you _like the bad guy. _If you were to actually let me get to know you, then perhaps I may start treating you differently. As far as I'm concerned, however, this is exactly how you want me to treat you and I'm not opposed to it. Is there anything else you'd like to ask before I leave you to your thoughts?"

"Why do you have to be such a bloody know-it-all all the time?" he growled, getting angrier by the minute. How dare she think it alright to speak to him this way?

She didn't hesitate to step forward and retort, "Why do you have to be such a bloody spoiled prat?"

He was really tempted to hex her, but he didn't. Marching right up to stand toe-to-toe with her, he screamed, "Just because you think you're the most brilliant person to ever walk these school halls doesn't give you the right to be such a stuck up prude! I'm sick and tired of you mudbloods storming into _my_ world as though you have a right to be here! All you do is 'ooh' and 'ahh' at every little thing and it's extremely annoying! Watching you in Diagon Alley, getting your wand and having Ollivander tell you things like he did all but—"

"You were there?" she interrupted. "You were there when I got my wand, and you heard what he said to me?"

"Yes. What of it?" he growled.

"So you're jealous that a _muggleborn_ such as myself could stride into what you believe to be 'your world' and grab hold of a wand that no other witch or wizard, pureblooded or not, has been able to manage since the time it was created? Is that it? Or perhaps it's the fact that you thought you would just strut in here knowing more than everyone else because you grew up in a well educated family already, and then a _muggleborn_ suddenly becomes the top student when they didn't even know about this place until last summer? You are so full of yourself, do you know that? Muggleborns have the same right to be here as you do, and don't think for a moment that we are beneath your so-called 'pure blood'. Magic may run throughout your entire family, but what good does it do if you can't be pure at heart? Why must you act as though you have some stupid, stereotypical role to fill just because you're the heir of one of the most prominent pureblood families that still exist?!"

"Because I am!" he screamed in her face, grabbing her by her shoulders and gripping tightly. He didn't even care that he was touching a mudblood. He'd ran into her so many times before it almost seemed natural to him. "I'm being forced by my own father to act cold and in control, because I am supposed to be some great leader, and I don't even know if I can do it! And if I can't, I disappoint my father and quite possibly my own mother! She shares your beliefs about needing to be myself, but she knows that everything my father has worked so hard to obtain will be for not if I don't act like a _true_ Malfoy, _because_ I am the heir to the most prominent pureblood family still in existence! Don't you get it?! If I let my guard down, another pureblood family will steal control right from under our noses and my family will blame it all on me, because it will have been my fault! Do you understand me?"

She just stared at him with wide eyes. This was the real Draco Malfoy, the one she'd been trying to figure out this whole time. It was…sad. He was sad. "Malfoy…" Slowly, her eyes softened, and he couldn't help but stare at them. There was something about them that calmed him, and he unconsciously loosened his grip enough for her to place her own hand on his slackened shoulder. "Can I say something without you yelling at me?" He pursed his lips into a straight line. Was he willing to let her speak? He was wary, but in the end he just nodded shortly and let her say what it was she wanted to get off her chest. "I understand what you're going through." His brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could get angry, she began to explain. "My family…I know I say they're just dentists, but—"

It clicked then. "They're in charge of a giant muggle dentistry company, aren't they?" She gasped, quite shocked that he guessed correctly, but the funny thing is that he hadn't guessed. He _knew_, but he'd completely forgotten about it. "My family does a bit of business in the muggle world. They may not like muggles, but they can't deny the money that comes in. My father was talking about a dentist company owned by some muggle family called the Grangers. It just completely slipped my mind that you were connected to them. I never really paid much attention to any of the muggle business my parents dealt with. So what's your story?"

They seemed to have both calmed down enough to have a civil conversation, so he sat back down on the grass and motioned for her to do so as well. She accepted, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them before she went on. "My mother. She's always trying to teach me proper etiquette. She hates the fact that I won't let anyone near my hair, and I won't let anyone put any make up on me. When I wear dresses for parties, I always make sure it's something I want rather than something she has someone pick out for me. I've always been rebellious, and she can't stand it. It makes me sad sometimes that she won't just be happy with me as I am. Part of me thinks that me going away for the year has relieved her. She thinks that if I come here and participate with my peers, I'll want to be more ladylike."

"What do you mean exactly?" he cut in. "Haven't you always gone to school?"

She smiled slightly. "Well, I was hardly ever with my own age. I always excelled, so they kept letting me skip grades."

"You can do that?!" He was completely baffled now. "I wish we could do that here. I could have graduated early. Wait, does that mean you completed muggle school already?"

Hermione shook her head. "I had just finished secondary school—"

"Secondary school?"

She realized he had no idea what she was talking about, so she began to explain. "Well, school for muggles is split into three different types: primary, secondary, and your lower and upper sixth. You start in school, where you learn basic subjects: Math, Art, Music, English, Science. I'll tell you more about those later. You stay in primary school for about 7 years, if you include your Reception year."

"7 years?! So…you're in one school for 7 years before going to the next? I'm glad we only have 7 years here, period. I couldn't imagine going to school for any longer than that."

The bushy brown haired girl couldn't help but giggle at this. It felt nice to explain her world to someone here instead of the other way around. She could imagine how he felt, but now she knew how everyone else felt around her as well. "Anyway, then you have secondary school. This is basically the same as primary, only more advanced and with a few extra classes you can take and more extracurricular activities as well. You're only here for 5 years, but a lot of the children here are…well…not so pleasant, so it feels more like an eternity being here." There was something about her that suddenly changed when she thought about this that shocked him. He's never seen her look like this before, at least not up close. His mind wandered back to Charms class where she'd given him a defeated smile…the fire in her eyes had dimmed, and he hadn't liked it very much.

"Then you have your lower and upper sixth forms," she went on, bringing him back to reality. "You're here for 2 years, taking more advanced classes to prepare you for university. If I'd stayed, this would have been my lower sixth." She looked up to see him in a thoughtful state of mind.

"That entire schooling system sounds very…well…exhausting. I think I'd just quit halfway through."

"Most do," she stated with a smile. "People there probably think I dropped out, as well." He stared at her for a moment, watching as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear that the wind had blown out of place.

Without thinking, he leaned forward and asked, "Why do you care what other people think?" She looked up in shock. He wondered if she even knew the answer. "You're always going on about how it's so much better to just be yourself, but then you seem to always be wondering what people think of you. So then, wouldn't it be easier to act like the person everyone wants you to be so you don't have to worry anymore?"

"There's no sense in making friends with people who can't accept who you really are," she stated. "If the only way to get what you want is to lose who you are for someone others want you to be, it's not worth it. I'd rather be poor with a good head on my shoulders and be true to myself rather than wealthy without a clue as to who I really am. I refuse to play that game, and I told my mother just as much."

He stared at her. All he could do was stare at her. "How can you be so…how can you think like that, as though there will be no consequence to your actions? Your parents are well known, and they are being watched by so many people."

"I know." Hermione looked away now. "There was a point in time when I was about 8 or 9 that something happened. I had been walking around my neighborhood—it's always been a quiet, peaceful place, you know—just minding my own business. It was a nice day out, so I'd decided to take a stroll. Um…long story short, I was kidnapped. The police were all over the town searching, and there was talk of how my parents should have been more responsible and that they shouldn't have let me outside on my own. After that…well, I wasn't ever allowed out by myself again."

Draco watched her as she fell back on her memories, wondering what he would have done if he'd been kidnapped. "What happened? I mean…how they found you, and…and whatnot."

She knew what he was trying to get at, but she wasn't prepared to share something like that with anyone. Not even her parents. So she settled with a vague answer. "It was dark. I don't remember much, but they said it had been a week that I had been gone before they found me in an abandoned cottage in the woods. I think they said something about trauma getting to me, so it was a good thing I didn't remember anything."

Draco knew something wasn't right. Granger not knowing something? It wasn't possible. Her mind was too bright for something like that to get to her…wasn't it? He could feel that she didn't feel like sharing, however, so he let it go. "Well, I suppose the Hat was right when sorting you into Gryffindor." She looked at him then, and he shrugged. "Only a brave person could have been kidnapped for a week and still be able to get on with life the way you do."

He was comforting her…again, only this time he wasn't covering it up with a nasty tone. She liked it. She liked this Malfoy. "Malfoy…" He looked back at her. "I know it may not be my place to say this but…if you ever feel the need to express yourself, you can do so around me. I know. I know you can't possibly let down your guard in public, but if it's just the two of us, you can be yourself and drop the façade. If you want, that is." She was blushing, embarrassed at how she sounded at the moment.

Draco took a good look at her, and then he smiled. "Yeah…I'd like that."

They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment, and then they burst out laughing. The wall between them seemed to be slowly disappearing and while they didn't quite know if it were friendship, they knew something had started to blossom.


	8. Chapter 8: Friends

~Perfect Harmony~

I am so sorry for not updating! I'll be honest and say I got caught up watching Criminal Minds and every time I sat down to write this, I went blank. I hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything pertaining to it. I am merely living out my fantasies through this fanfiction. Thank you and enjoy!

* * *

**~Friends~**

"I take my leave. Do not do anything stupid in my absence." Lucius Malfoy narrowed his gaze at his wife and son, and then he was gone.

Narcissa glared at the spot where her husband had formerly been before taking a deep breath and turning to smile at her son. "Now, dear. Tell me, how has your first term been so far? Do you like it? What exciting things have happened?"

"The first semester has been a bit exciting, I'll admit," Draco shrugged as they began their walk back to the Manor from the Apparation point. "Being in a new environment with different people, for example, is something to be excited about. I'm getting used to it, though. I doubt that part will be very exciting come next year."

Narcissa laughed lightly at her son and said, "Oh, I don't know about that. I never got tired of going to school, weird as that may seem."

Draco nodded. He knew quite well why she looked forward to it. When you lived in a home like hers, full of his father's beliefs, and then had a rebellious sister who his mother based her moral system upon wasn't easy. It certainly wasn't for him, that was for sure. Instead of going into more depth on that mattered, he returned to her previous questions. "As for liking it, I'm not quite sure what to make of it, due to everything that's been going on. A troll got into the school on Halloween, though. That was pretty interesting, to say the least."

Now Narcissa stopped in her tracks and when Draco went to look back at his mother, he noticed she had gone pale with shock. Oops. Perhaps he shouldn't have dropped that bit about the troll so carelessly until she had been seated. "A troll?!" she screeched. "How could Dumbledore not notice a _troll_? Has he gone mad, letting children—"

"Mum, it's alright," he groaned, rolling his eyes. "Professor Dumbledore did manage to keep everyone from panicking enough to get us all back to our dormitories safely. No one was hurt. The little trio, however, may have been a bit traumatized. Still, that seemed to be the event that made them friends in the first place so I'm sure they silently thank the troll every day. Can we move inside now?" He had reached the front door and his mother still wasn't moving. He beckoned her to walk, and so she did so. He sighed then, realizing he was about to hear an earful.

He was correct on more than one level. As soon as she'd seated herself in the ground floor library, she took a deep breath…and then she was going on about things Draco couldn't even keep up with. She went from the Halloween incident to the Sorting Hat to Hermione Granger to Lucius to classes to Professor Snape, even. Finally, he couldn't take anymore of this question after question rambling that she had somehow gone into, so he put his head in his hands and groaned loudly. "Mother! Can you _please,_ for the love of all that is good, ask me one thing at a time? You're beginning to give me a headache, and I've barely been up for thirty minutes."

His mother, exasperated, finally began to calm herself down before apologizing. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm just not used to you being away from home for so long. It's a bit draining, worrying about you even though I know you're perfectly safe there. And then you tell me that bit about a troll on Halloween and I go into a frenzy." She smiled then. "Now, there is one thing in particular that I would like to talk to you about, and I know you knew this would be coming up soon."

Draco knew what she was going on about now, and silently berated himself from stopping her from her incessant babbling. He missed it already. She leaned forward and looked him straight in the eye. "Hermione Granger. And don't ask what I want to know. I want to know everything, from the very first encounter to the very last thought. Even if you've told me already, it would help for you to repeat it again."

He was beside himself. His mother…she wanted to know _everything?! _"Everything…?" The look his mother was giving him was an impassive one, one she wasn't usually willing to give her only son but this was an occasion in which she could make an exception. He realized then that there was no way out of this. She could smell a lie from five miles away, and sometimes she kept it to herself for later use. She _was_ a Slytherin, after all. And so, he began his story.

"I had just gotten my wand from Ollivander. Still a bit shaken up, I went to walk out while she was walking in. I nearly fell and dropped my new wand, so naturally I acted like a brat and told her to watch where she was going. When I saw her parents I realized she was a mudblood—"

"Muggleborn," Narcissa interjected.

Draco nodded. "Right, muggleborn. Sorry. So I decided to take a moment to watch her. After all, I've always grown up hearing about them and how filthy and different they were, but I'd never actually been in contact with one. I wanted to see with my own eyes what all the fuss was about, other than them not having magical parents."

"And what did you see?"

This is where Draco seemed to become lost in his own thoughts as he thought back to that moment. "I saw a witch. She was just as astonished as anyone else getting their wand for their first time. I imagine my face looked quite similar to hers, and that's what surprised me. It surprised me even more than the fact that she was compatible with a wand much stronger than many of the others made in that shop. She just seemed so…normal.

"I thought mudbloods—and I'm saying that intentionally so you get the message—would be disgusting, inside and out. Sure, she isn't necessarily the prettiest girl ever; her hair is a mess, and her two front teeth are a bit larger than the others. Still, she was normal. And when Ollivander spoke of how powerful that wand was and what kind of witch it took to control it blew my mind. How could someone who was supposed to be weak and repulsive obtain a wand like that? It was plaguing my mind all summer after that, and it was driving me mad.

"Then I saw her on the train, because she was helping some dimwit named Neville Longbottom—"

"Draco!" Narcissa nearly hissed his name, and Draco suddenly realized what he'd just said. Narcissa saw the recognition on his face, and so she took a breath to calm down. "Draco…please do not speak ill of the boy. After all, he may have turned out to be different had my sister not…well…had she not done what she had. I know you're young. You didn't live it. You don't quite have a grasp of such horrors, and I truly hope you never have to, but please do not speak so ill of the boy." There was a haunted look in his mother's eyes, one he had seen many times when she would wake from a nightmare or when she'd encounter one of his father's colleagues from the war.

He placed a comforting hand on his mother's own hand in her lap, and nodded. "Sorry, Mum. I wasn't thinking about it at the time." She smiled softly at him, patting his hand and motioning for him to continue the story. "Well, as I was saying before, Granger was helping Longbottom find his toad. Apparently, he'd lost it when he boarded the train." _However one goes about doing so, I have no idea, _Draco thought to himself. "I didn't say anything to her, but there was something about the way she looked over to me that told me she recognized me as the rude kid from Diagon Alley.

"Crabbe and Goyle insulted her, although their grammar is terrible. And Granger, well, you should have seen it!" He didn't realize how much he'd brightened up at recalling such a memory, but it didn't go unnoticed by his mother. She said nothing, saving that bit of information for later. "She not only corrected their grammar in a manner that would almost make Father proud, but she stood up for both herself and Longbottom. I've never seen anyone with such fire in their eyes. It was bloody wonderful! For a moment, I completely forgot she was a mud—muggleborn.

"She came back after awhile, a lot more prepared to take on those two idiots. What? You know it's true," he commented after seeing the look his mother was giving him. He may pity Longbottom for his family's actions, but he felt no remorse for two dimwitted pea brains who didn't know what to do with themselves when left alone. "Anyway, she said if we told her anything, she'd tell us where Harry Potter was. Naturally—oh, do I have to tell you bit? I've already told you a million times through post." Narcissa pursed her lips, then sighed and told him he could move on.

"Thank you. Now, let's see. What have I not told you?" he wondered aloud. "Well, honestly, I was quite nasty to her for the first half of term. I'm surprised she doesn't really hate me like I thought she did. Well, the week was almost over. She was excelling at everything and, me being competitive, didn't really like it all that much. So I was nasty, like I said before. The day before our first flying lesson, I found her in the library looking up tips on how to fly. Can you imagine? That one is always trying to learn everything from a book, even if she knows experience is the only way. She's stubborn, alright.

"Anyway, somehow I ended up trying to tell her it would be alright. I felt bad for her, I admit. The thing is…I've never really felt bad enough for anyone to comfort them, so I wasn't sure what to do. Honestly, it sort of came out a bit harsh and mean, but she got the fact that I was trying to be nice…which was weird considering the fact that I had never been nice to her before. Or anyone, for that matter.

"Oh, this is all taking too long, Mum!" he whined. "So long story short. Longbottom had trouble on the broom. It crashed. He went to the hospital wing. I tried to get Potter expelled. I'll talk about that bit later. He was taken by McGonagall, though I didn't know it would be to get him on the Quidditch team, which I'm still upset about. Then Granger and I had a chat after everyone was dismissed and that's when she told me about how big of a prat I am and whatnot, and then deduced that even though I may be a horrible person, I'm not as bad as I think I am partially due to what she believed to be a split opinion household. Trust me, I was quite surprised.

"After that, she was on my mind a lot more. Other things happened. She wasn't making friends well, due to her bossy little know-it-all attitude, so when she mastered a charm no one else had gotten on Halloween, no one cheered. In fact, they all ignored her, including her house. That Weasley was her partner, and after class he was complaining to Potter about how that was why she had no friends. I suppose that's what triggered the waterworks, because she started crying. She even bumped into Potter without acknowledging him there. She skipped next class and disappeared all afternoon. I shouldn't have noticed, but I did. I found out she'd been in the girl's bathroom crying for hours. I thought she was blowing things out of proportion, but then I supposed that I'd be much the same if everyone in school seemed to ignore me.

"Well, the troll thing happened. I saw Potter and Weasley talking, heard Granger's name, and saw them run off so I followed. I realized half way that they were going to get her from the girls' bathroom, but we all saw the troll had gotten out of the dungeon and was making its way to the girls' bathroom. Panicking, they locked the door, and I was quite pleased they did so…until we heard her screaming and realized she had been in _that_ particular bathroom. I went to get her, but they beat me, so I hung back. I didn't want them seeing I had been concerned, and didn't feel like coming up with a cover story.

"They knocked the thing out, some teachers found them. Granger lied for the first time ever to a teacher, something we were all a bit proud of, and when she left, I grabbed her and screamed at her about how stupid she was."

There was something about the pause Draco had made and the face he was making that caused Narcissa to ask, "And?"

Still looking at the spot on the ground he'd been dazing at, he answered, "And she _smiled _at me. She bloody _smiled_ at me for calling her stupid! Can you believe it? She was genuinely happy that I called her stupid. And then she went on about how I followed to make sure she was okay and she _thanked_ me. It was…completely weird. Mental, even. Completely mental. Just before she left, though, she asked me…she asked 'Are you going to be true to yourself or are you going to keep pretending to be someone you're not' or something like that. And once again, she had me thinking about it even more!

"A lot of other stuff happened, more so to do with me trying to expel Potter than anything—again, don't ask right now. Then I was sitting in my usual little space by the lake—you know, the one I told you about earlier in the year?—and low and behold, apparently she goes there, too! Somehow, we never crossed paths until then. Well, I thought I'd try to not be so nasty and actually get some answers as to why sometimes she treats me like dirt and other times she's genuine. She snapped, so I snapped. We started arguing, I slipped up about seeing her get her wand, she pinned my attitude on jealousy, which I suppose it sort of was—is—but then we got into another row about why I need to play this cold, cruel façade and then we went into how she understood and I remembered who her parents were in the muggle world.

"Needless to say, arguing seemed to be what got us to be…well…acquainted, I suppose is a good word for it. She told me I could be myself if it were just she and I, much like how you told me the same thing when I was younger. She does remind me of you at times, you know. Her moral beliefs, the things she does, like what I just told you. It's a bit weird.

"Well, after that, we started meeting—not intentionally, though—near the lake and we'd just sit and talk, or study, or just read or stare at the water. It sounds really cheesy, but that's what we do. She's helped a lot when it comes to homework. We only spend time together every so often, but it's frequent enough for me to actually get to know her a bit. Don't get any funny ideas, Mother," he added, knowing his mother well enough to know she was already thinking up things he couldn't even fathom. "I guess, if you want to sum everything up, she's always on my mind because she's challenged everything I've ever been taught up until now. I thought mudbloods—again, using it on purpose—were beneath us because they were ignorant and that made them weak and stupid. Yet, here is one who is at the top of the class and has more nerve than anyone else I've ever seen. It just doesn't make any sense."

Narcissa watched as her son became lost in his thoughts before she, too, went into her own thoughts. On one note, she feared just how nasty he had become towards others just to keep up this appearance of his and she wondered if perhaps part of that was truly him and not an act. She desperately wanted to keep him her sweet little boy, but she wasn't blind. She had seen him changing during summer, especially as he spent more and more time with his father who suddenly wanted Draco with him. And even before then, she noticed how rude he was to other children he didn't like when he thought no one was looking.

On another note, she had hope yet. Hermione Granger. This girl could very well be the thing her son needed to come back to who he was before his father began taking him and brainwashing him. Granger had a long road ahead of her, but Narcissa was clinging onto the small sliver of hope the muggleborn child had given her. She's never seen her son so animated when talking about a particular person. He always says things such as 'They were nice' or 'I didn't quite like that one' but he never fully explained what he thought about someone. Even if Narcissa hadn't asked him to tell her everything, she had a sneaking feeling that he still would have poured out his thoughts on the matter. After all, this girl had been plaguing his mind since before they ever boarded the train, and that was saying something. A Malfoy never dwells upon something for too long unless it is genuinely important to them.

"Well, have you thought about writing her during the holiday?" she asked, making Draco look up in shock. It was obvious he hadn't.

"Um…well…no, actually." He looked down at the floor to hide his expression, but Narcissa Malfoy could see how pink his cheeks had gone. Having such a pale complexion really wasn't ideal during times such as these. It's nearly impossible to hide such a face.

With a smile, she pretended not to see as she continued, "Well, perhaps you should. It would help you get your thoughts together and figure things out. Now, on a different matter…" She narrowed her gaze at him as she leaned forward, and he was suddenly very afraid of his mother. "What is this about expelling Harry Potter?" Yes…he was very, very afraid.

* * *

Hermione Granger sat on her bed, reading through all of her school books. She was trying desperately hard to find anything on Nicholas Flammel. After that little chat with Malfoy after Quidditch, she had gone down to Hagrid's with Harry and Ron so they could discuss what had happened at the game. Hermione explained that it had been Snape who had somehow jinxed Harry's broom. Hagrid didn't believe her one bit, rambling on and on about how Snape was a professor. He sounded like Hermione when she hadn't believed Snape was evil. Then Hagrid said something about how what Fluffy the ferocious three-headed mongrel—she honestly couldn't believe he had named that thing _Fluffy_ of all names—was guarding was between the headmaster and Nicholas Flammel.

Since then, she's been trying to find anything she could about the bloke. So far, none of them were coming up with anything. It got to the point where she even asked Malfoy if he knew anything during one of their study sessions by the lake.

And that was another thing. Draco Malfoy and she had become…she wanted to say friends but she thought that might be a bit much, especially for a pureblood with certain beliefs about anyone who _wasn't_. She knew it had more to do with how he grew up, but it still upset her. She never said anything to him about calling her mudblood, but she didn't have to. Most of the time when he caught himself saying it, he turned to her and corrected it. He never said sorry, but she supposed that if she pointed that out he would go on some long spiel about how a Malfoy never said sorry to anyone, no matter who you were. It was the same with saying thank you. He didn't really say that unless he was trying to get something out of them. She had learned that much.

Anyway, Malfoy had told her to try the Restricted Section in the library. It was a good idea and she had thought about it before, but she really didn't want to get caught. She also knew that she wasn't very good at sneaking around, so she had told Harry and Ron who were staying at school during the holiday to do it while she was away. It wasn't that she was scared. Well, maybe a bit, but it wasn't the fear of getting caught that made her not want to do it herself. She just knew that if she were caught, questions would be asked and then they may not ever find out who Nicholas Flammel is or what Fluffy is guarding in time to stop Snape from getting to it.

As she flipped another page, she heard a pecking at her window. _Who could that be from?_ she wondered once she saw the beautiful black and white owl hovering outside with a roll of parchment tied around its leg. She thought that perhaps Harry and Ron had found something for her, or maybe they just wanted to write and wish her happy holidays. Scooting off the edge of the bed, she opened the window and let the owl in before closing it. Then she untied the parchment and pet the pretty creature, giving it a small treat from her desk drawer. She's been told it was common courtesy to give an owl compensation for their services, so she'd picked some up in Hogsmeade Station before boarding the train back home.

There was a fancy seal on the roll of parchment when she found the end to open it. It took her a moment of studying it before she realized who had sent her this letter. With heightened curiosity, she gently undid the seal and began to read:

_Hermione,_

_Did I spell that right? Your name is a bit weird, no offense. Well, I was just writing to say happy holidays. Is that weird? This whole…befriending a __mudblood __muggleborn is still new to me, so it's a bit weird. And I keep saying weird. Um…right._

_This whole writing thing is awkward, but my mother put the idea into my head and so I thought I'd give it a go. I've re-written this at least a dozen times, trying to make it sound more smooth and elegant instead of choppy and awkward, but it's not working. Also, you've probably noted that I crossed out mudblood. Well, I wasn't meaning to write it, but it kept happening—old habits die hard, I suppose—so I just crossed it out because I didn't feel like writing this again. And you better not write me back scolding me on being lazy or I'll hex you!_

_That is…if you write back at all. You don't have to, you know. Actually, it might be better if you don't. You can if you want, though. _

_Okay. Anyway, have you found anything else about that Nicholas Flammel bloke? I've been keeping an eye out, but I haven't seen or heard anything pertaining to him. Have you tried the Restricted Section yet?_

_Well, have a nice holiday. I'll see you at school in a few weeks._

_Draco Malfoy_

_P.S. Also, the whole calling you by your first name was also something Mum put into my head. You don't have to call me by mine if you don't want. Actually…that would be really weird. So actually, please don't. It would make everything so much more awkward if you did. And what if you slipped up and said it in front of everyone. That would be bad. _

_Right. This was a bit of a long p.s. I suppose. I'm ending it here. If you write back, you had better not start talking about more schoolwork. I really will hex you, you know._

She found herself laughing halfway through this. She could almost see him as he was writing this, getting frustrated and possibly wanting to tear out his carefully placed, shiny blonde hair. He used the word 'weird' a great deal more than was necessary. Was it really that awkward writing to someone? However, she would admit that he calling her by her name was a bit…queer. Different. If he actually said it to her in real life, she was sure she'd feel embarrassed.

And he had actually said he thought of her as a friend. In so many words, yes, but he said so nonetheless. And it felt…nice. Liberating. At least now she knew where they stood. It was a bit annoying wondering if he viewed her as a friend or just some…well…therapist that he could talk to.

After giving it some thought, she set the letter aside to find some parchment and a quill and began to write him back. She wrote, read, rewrote and reread. Her final outcome pleased her well enough, so she rolled it up, tied it to the lovely and quite patient owl on her desk, then sent it on its way back to Malfoy Manor. Things were beginning to get interesting. As she looked out to where the owl flew before disappearing, she smiled contently. Then she realized something…"Malfoy told his mother…!"

* * *

_Draco,_

_Did I spell that right? Your name is a bit queer, I must admit. Well, thank you for wishing me a happy holiday. I give you my best wishes to you, as well. You are correct, however. You said 'weird' exactly 5 times in your letter, not counting how many times you put it in your discarded letters that you found unsatisfactory. You also used the word 'awkward' exactly 3 times in addition to those 'weirds'._

_I would like to mention that you are a lazy, cowardly prat and would kindly ask that you imagine me sticking my tongue out at you in a teasingly childish manner—even though, technically, we are still children. And as for you hexing me, you'd be lucky to graze my cheek. Although, I find it a bit adorable that you seemed genuinely worried about whether or not I would want to write you back. _

_And no, I haven't found anything about him so far. I'm having Harry and Ron check the Restricted Section while I'm home. I honestly don't expect them to find anything, though. They're not very good about finding things, you see. I would have done it, but I myself am not very good at sneaking around without being caught. It's definitely not a specialty of mine…yet._

_Thank you again for the holiday wishes. Have a nice holiday, Draco._

_Hermione Granger_

_P.S. Your letter really made my day. I haven't laughed like that in quite awhile. It's a bit strange, how you keep managing to do that to me. So thank you for brightening up my morning with that bit of communication. See you soon. _

He couldn't believe it. She'd actually written him back. Once he read it, though, he wasn't sure whether to be insulted or amused. She was clearly mocking him. She even called him adorable—

She called him adorable. "How dare she call me adorable?!" he hissed, unaware of the house elf at his door.

"Erm…young Master?" Draco whipped his head around to see Dobby the house elf standing timidly in his door frame.

Clearing his throat, he tried to hide his blush from earlier as he breathed, "Nothing. Just a stupid letter from that Pansy Parkinson girl." She was the first name he'd come up with, because ever since she'd heard his last name she had been clinging to him like a lovesick puppy. He was getting quite annoyed by it. "Erm, what did you want, Dobby?"

"Dinner is ready, young Master." Dobby bowed his head and vanished, leaving Draco to read through the note once more. _She called me adorable…_He suddenly wanted to write another letter.

* * *

I know it's a bit shorter than some of them. I'm sorry about that. Please don't forget to write your reviews and tell me what you think so far! Thank you!


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